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‘ My dear chap, I ’ll confess to you that I ’m in a veritable funk, 
and, if I could, I’d run away.’ 


o.n.— Front. 


Page 143. 


Oliver Hastings, V.C. 

A REALISTIC STORY OF THE GREAT WAR 


By 

ESCOTT LYNN 

Autlior of ' In KHaki for the King,’ A Hero of the Mutiny, 
' Blair of Balaclava, &c. 


WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS 

by 

Harold Earnsliaw 


E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

31 V/e3t Twenty.Thlra Street. NEW YORK 
LONDON: 38 Soho Square, W. 

W. & R. CHAMBERS. LIMITED 

EDINBURGH : 339 High Street 


FnnUd in 



TO 

MAJOR P. C. LAWRENCE, 

1st battalion, the duke of EDINBURGH’S 
WILTSHIRE REGIMENT. 






( 



oo 



CONTENTS. 


I. BACK IN HARNESS . 

II. THE NEW CHUMS . 

« 


• 

i 

1 

• 


• 

• 

5 

III. AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES . 

• 


• 

• 

12 

IV. COLONEL LIVESAY TAKES EVIDENCE 


• 

• 

21 

V. AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY . 

. 


• 

• 

28 

VI. CHEERY DICK ‘TAKES OVER’. 

. 


• 

• 

35 

VII. CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING 


t 

• 

43 

VIII. SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS . 

• 


• 

• 

50 

IX. CHEERY DICK CRITICISES 

• 


• 

• 

58 

X. THE ROUTE ARRIVES 

• 


« 

• 

63 

XI. CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY 


• 

• 

73 

XII. THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN 

LIGHTLY . 

• 

• 

82 

XIII. A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK 

. 


• 

• 

91 

XIV. IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE 

MADE 


• 

• 

102 

XV. THE TRAP IS SET . ' . 

• 


• 

• 

111 

XVI. HOW IT WORKED . i 

• 


• 

• 

122 

XVII. THE BITER BIT 

• ^ 

• 


• 

• 

129 

XVIII. FRITZ RETALIATES . ! 

• 


• 

• 

139 

XIX. IN ‘ PLUG STREET ’ . 

• 


• 

• 

148 

XX. VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER . 

• 


• 

• 

156 

XXI. A SURPRISE VISIT . 

• 


• 

• 

165 

XXII. THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER . 

• 


• 

• 

176 

XXIII. THE BATTLE OPENS 

• 


• 

• 

184 

XXIV. THE CAPTURE OF LOOS . 

• 


• 

• 

193 

XXV. CUT OFF FROM HELP 



• 

• 

204 

XXVI. CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES 

• 

• 

210 

XXVII. TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER . 


• 

• 

219 

XXVIII. THE GUARDS JOIN IN . 



• 

• 

233 

XXIX. HOLDING ON . 





241 

XXX. THE COUNTERrATTACK . 



• 

• 

255 


iv 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER 

XXXI. 

THE END OF THE FIGHT 

• 

• 

• 

• 


PAGE 

261 

XXXII. 

A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND 


• 

• 

. 

269 

XXXIII. 

THE REVIEW . 






279 

XXXIV. 

A SPECIAL MISSION. 

• 

• 

• 

• 


290 

XXXV. 

ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH 

• 

• 

• 

• 

. 

298 

XXXVI. 

OLIVER HAS A NARROW ESCAPE 

• 


• 

• 

308 

XXXVII. 

A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

313 

XXXVIII. 

A TERRIBLE RETREAT . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

323 

XXXIX. 

ON A HOT SCENT . 

. 

• 

• 

• 

• 

331 

XL. 

LOFFEL’S last SERVICE TO 

THE 

KAISER 

• 

• 

339 

XLI. 

THE NAVY WAY 

• 


• 

• 

• 

350 

XLII. 

THE END OF A GREAT ADVENTURE 

• 

• 

• 

359 

XLIII. 

AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

365 

XLIV. 

BACK TO THE TRENCHES 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

376 

XLV. 

‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE ’ 

* 

• 

• 

. 

384 

XLVI. 

A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS 

• 

• 

• 

• 


394 

NOTES 







401 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

‘ My dear cbap, 1 ’ll confess to you that I ’m in a veritable 
funk, and, if I could, I ’d run away ’ . Frontispiece 

‘ Why, what on earth is he doing ? ’ 15 

‘ How the dickens did you get here ? ’ asked Vivian sternly . 77 

Mairin gave a sort of gasping cry, and from under his jacket 

he drew a long-bladed knife 122 

Travers, with a sullen growl, dashed at them . . . 173 

Vivian grappled with the Prussian, and a fierce struggle 

began 228 

‘ As your commanding officer, I command you, go to your 

men, sir ! ’ 261 

Cracked away with their revolvers as the car, dashing into 

the fire, scattered it in all directions .... 320 


OLIVER HASTINGS, V.C. 


CHAPTER I. 

BACK IN HARNESS. 

K haki, khaki everywhere ! Officers and men, 
Regulars and Territorials ! Look where you 
would, they were in tens, in dozens, and in scores ! 

One o’clock at Victoria Station! The ‘trench 
train’ was at the platform ready to start — in the 
right-hand bay the officers’ portion, in the left the 
men’s. Englishmen, Scotsmen, Welshmen, Irishmen ; 
Canadians, New Zealanders, Australians, and South 
Africans; men from the burning plains of India and 
from the frozen wastes of Hudson Bay — all the 
Lion’s cubs were there. Every man, too, had faced 
death many times in the trenches or on the battle- 
fields of France or Flanders. Not one of the rank 
and file but had served for not less than nine months 
against the most persistent and most ruthless foe 
Great Britain had ever faced. After a brief spell at 
home, they were going back to it all again, to stand 
for hours and days knee-deep in water or mud, every 
nerve tense with excitement, while shrapnel or high- 
explosive shells fell around them ; to charge in the 
teeth of infernos of rifle and machine-gun fire, or to 
carry out the less glorious, though equally dangerous, 


2 


BACK IN HARNESS. 


task of bringing up supplies or bearing away the 
wounded. 

But nothing of all this recked the jostling crowd 
of soldiers. Laughing and joking, passing bantering 
remarks to one another, braced, buckled, and armed 
just as they had left the firing-line, these humble 
heroes kissed a fond good-bye to wife, child, or 
mother, gave a farewell grip of the hand to father, 
brother, or wounded comrade, and then packed them- 
selves into the waiting train as unconcernedly as 
though but going to a royal review. The officers, 
spick and span, newly groomed and fitted out, stepped 
into the dining-cars, and, with a farewell greeting as 
the train glided out, were gone. A few minutes later 
a guard blew his whistle, carriage doors were slammed, 
and the mens train followed, those left behind on 
the platform giving a hearty cheer, replied to still 
more lustily by the men returning to ‘ carry on in the 
trenches ! ’ A minute later only those who had come 
to see them off remained upon the platform. 

Amongst those whom curiosity alone had brought 
to the spot were two young lieutenants, Oliver 
Hastings and Vivian Drummond. Each wore on his 
breast the ribbons of several decorations; and this 
fact, coupled with the extremely youthful appearance 
of Oliver Hastings, the younger of the two, had 
caused many of those on the platform to gaze with 
some curiosity at the young men. In spite of their 
youth, both had proved their mettle on the field of 
glory. They had taken part in the heroic retreat 
from Mons, had borne a glorious share in the victory 
of the Marne, fought at the Aisne, and after many 
weary months of winter in the trenches had been in 
the battle of Neuve Chapelle, where both had had 


BACK IN HARNESS. 


3 


the misfortune to be wounded and to be invalided 
home.* 

‘ Wonderful chaps, the Tommies, Vivian ! ' said 
Oliver Hastings, as they turned to leave the 
platform. 

* Wonderful is not the word ; they *re magnificent,’ 
replied Vivian Drummond. ‘ With such men, and 
given enough of them, we must win.’ 

‘ Provided the workers at home only back them up 
with munitions.’ 

‘ No croaking, youngster ! Leave that to the stay- 
at-homes. As soldiers, all that concerns us is the 
fighting part of the programme.’ 

‘Which is quite enough to go on with. But we 
must hurry,’ said Oliver, looking at his wrist watch, 
‘or we shall keep the mater waiting.’ 

‘By Jove ! that won’t do.’ And the two, making a 
dive across the road, jumped into a taxi. 

It was the month of July 1915, and Oliver and 
Vivian had spent their convalescence, a most enjoy- 
able time, with the former’s people. But the course 
of events had not run so smoothly with the Allies 
as had been hoped. Officers, especially experienced 
ones, were badly wanted, and the two friends had 
applied to be returned to duty. 

Vivian Drummond belonged to the Coldstream 
Guards, while Oliver Hastings, a Yeomanry lieutenant 
only at the beginning of the war, had been attached 
to the cavalry. But Oliver’s father, who had been 
on the staff in the early days of the war, had ob- 
tained command of the 10th Battalion of the Wessex 
Fusiliers, and Oliver naturally wished to serve under 
his father. There was nothing strange in that ; but 
* Note A — ‘ In Khaki for the King.’ 


4 


BACK IN HARNESS. 


how it came about that Vivian, a Guardsman, agreed 
to transfer to a Territorial battalion requires some 
explanation. 

It was true that experienced officers were most 
urgently needed in these newly raised battalions, and, 
as Vivian said, he wanted to be with his friend 
Oliver ; but these reasons by themselves would prob- 
ably have been insufficient to persuade a Guardsman 
to transfer to a Territorial battalion. A further 
reason could perhaps be found in Vivian’s anxiety 
not to keep Mrs Hastings or her daughter waiting 
for them at Claridge’s, where they had arranged to 
lunch, and in the manner in which, during lunch, he 
devoted himself entirely to Miss Hastings. With 
great satisfaction he told her that it was all settled 
at the War Office, and that he and Oliver were join- 
ing next morning, asking if there was any message 
he could take to the pater. From which it may be 
inferred that Marjory Hastings had a very great 
deal to do with Vivian’s electing to serve in the 
10th Battalion of the Wessex Fusiliers rather than in 
the Coldstream Guards. 

There was much to be done that day in packing 
and writing and bidding farewells, and night came 
all too soon for Vivian. Both he and Oliver were 
up betimes in the morning; and as there would be 
no one to escort Mrs Hastings and Marjory back from 
Waterloo, whence Oliver and Vivian were starting, 
the boys, by their own request, went off alone, and 
eleven o’clock found them en route to headquarters. 


CHAPTER 11. 


THE NEW CHUMS. 

‘''T^HAT’S a funny-looking specimen of the 
X British Army, Vivian/ said Oliver, as a 
rather diminutive figure in khaki passed them. He 
was middle-aged, short, and rather stout, with very 
blue eyes looking through rimless pince-nez, and he 
wore a cap that seemed a little too large for him, 
and a sword that almost touched the ground. 

‘Yes, this new army, as they call it, is composed of 
men of all sorts,’ replied Vivian ; ‘ but I dare say they ’ll 
all do their duty when the time comes.’ 

On the platform were a good many officers, and 
one red-faced young subaltern was hurrying up 
and down the train as though looking for some one. 
He suddenly caught sight of Vivian and Oliver, and, 
noticing the grenade on their caps, stopped, gave a 
sort of shoddy salute, something after the fashion of 
a porter acknowledging a tip, and said, ‘ Hallo, gentle- 
men, do you belong to the Wessex Fusiliers?’ 

‘ We have that honour,’ admitted Vivian a little 
stiffly, for he could not quite forget that he was an 
ex-Guardsman. 

‘ By George, then we ’re brother-officers ! ’ continued 
the red-faced youth. ‘ Are you going down to join ? ’ 

‘ We are.’ 

‘ That ’s good ; there ’ll be quite a lot of us. My 
name ’s Skinner — Norman Skinner.’ 

‘ Good-day to you, Mr Skinner,’ said Vivian, and 


THE NEW CHUMS. 


would have moved away ; but Oliver, a little less ex- 
clusive by nature, perhaps, than Vivian, and scenting 
some fun, shook hands with Lieutenant Skinner, and 
said, ‘ Glad to meet you. My name 's Hastings, and 
this is my friend Lieutenant Drummond.’ 

‘ Hastings, eh ! ’ said Skinner ; * same name as the 
chief ! Funny that ! They tell me he ’s “ hot 
stuff.” ’ 

Vivian raised his eyebrows at hearing the Colonel 
thus spoken of ; but Oliver said, ‘ Oh no, the Colonel ’s 
all right ; he ’s as mild as a lamb.’ 

‘Is he really?’ asked Skinner. ‘I hope he is. 
I ’ve been in a funk, for I ’m always making mistakes 
on parade. I only just managed to scrape through 
at Crowborough. Good thing I did, though, or the 
pater would have been jolly wild. You know my 
dad ’s Skinner the provision merchant. You ’ve heard 
of Skinner’s sausages, I dare say. The pater ’s made 
a pile out of them. When I left school I was 
shoved into his oflBce and made a sort of glorified 
quill-driver. But the war gave me my chance ; I got 
the dad to foot the bill, and here I am, a full-blown 
oflBcer.’ 

Oliver could hardly forbear smiling at the effusive 
young fellow, and, for want of something better to 
say, remarked that he hoped to be able to sample 
some of the celebrated sausages at the mess. 

‘I hope not!’ fervently ejaculated Skinner. *I 
hate the very name of ’em. But there ’s two more of 
“ ours ” going down. Jolly chaps. Let me introduce 
you ; ’ and he dashed away. 

‘What on earth did you want to strike up an 
acquaintance with that fellow for ? ’ asked Vivian. 

‘ Well, we shall have to see a good deal of him, as 


THE NEW CHUMS. 


7 


he belongs to our corps,’ answered Oliver; ‘and, 
besides, he looks as though he would provide some 
amusement. But here he comes.’ 

Lieutenant Norman Skinner came puffing back, 
dragging with him the curious little man with the 
blue eyes, and a taller young fellow, rather knock- 
kneed, with a slight cast in one eye and a preter- 
naturally grave manner. 

‘Let me introduce my two chums,’ said Skinner. 

‘ This is Jimmy Crawford, and this Archibald Harris.’ 

Lieutenant Crawford, the little man, drew himself 
up stiffly, saluted correctly in two motions, and, in a 
deep voice, which made Oliver and Vivian wonder 
where on earth it came from out of so small a man, 
said, as though giving a word of command, ‘De-lighted, 
I ’m sure.’ Lieutenant Harris shook hands in a shy 
sort of way, and the five chatted together for a 
minute or so. 

It was soon clear that Crawford’s small body con- 
tained a soul bursting with military ardour; his 
language was freely interspersed with professional 
terms, and he seemed to have imbibed a vast amount 
of knowledge from the drill-book. Harris was a 
dreamy, theoretical sort of young man ; and altogether 
Vivian thought the three ‘ new chums ’ were a very 
odd trio. 

‘ Hadn’t we better be seeing about getting seats ? ’ 
suggested Harris. 

‘ By Jove ! so we had,’ said Crawford. ‘ Fours left 
— I mean, come on,’ he added with a blush, and 
marching straight ahead, as though leading a platoon, 
he made for the train. 

‘Crawford is great!’ whispered Skinner with a 
prodigious wink. ‘ He ’d like to eat to the tap of 


8 


THE NEW CHUMS. 


the drum, and he ’d drill us all like a colour-sergeant 
if he had his way.’ 

The five got a carriage to themselves, and proceeded 
to make themselves comfortable. 

‘I say, boys, one of our new friends here is a 
namesake of the Colonel,’ said Skinner. ‘ Funny, isn’t 
it ? And he told me the chief is as mild as a lamb. 
Jolly, isn’t it ? ’ 

‘ Mild as a lamb ! ’ said Crawford, turning as though 
shot. ‘ I ’ve heard he ’s very strict. I hope he is. 
I want to serve under a real soldier. I ’d sooner have 
a martinet than a slacker for a chief.’ 

‘ You ’ll get enough of it, Jimmy, when you ’re out 
in the trenches,’ said Skinner. ‘You’ll get all the 
soldiering you want, I ’ll bet.’ 

‘ Gluttonous fellow, Crawford,’ sighed Harris ; ‘ puts 
me in mind of Judge Pitman in one of Max Adeler’s 
yarns, who could never have enough of anything. 
When the weather was broiling he wanted it hotter ; 
if it poured with rain he ’d say it was splendid for 
the umbrella-makers; if it froze hard he’d sit in 
his garden and pray for it to last, and give the 
skate -makers a chance. If he’d been a soldier 
he’d ’ 

‘Oh, shut up, Harris!’ interrupted Skinner. ‘You 
make me dizzy with your everlasting quotations.’ 

‘ Well, give us a quotation yourself for a change.’ 

‘I couldn’t quote a line to save my life. Books 
always made my head ache, and my father’s account- 
books used to make me absolutely ill. Thank good- 
ness, I ’ve escaped from them ! ’ 

‘There’s still the drill-book,’ Crawford reminded 
him. 

‘And now I’ve done with that, I hope,’ said 


THE NEW CHUMS. 


9 


Skinner, as the train cleared the station. ‘Let us 
smoke.’ 

While he had been speaking Oliver and Vivian 
had removed their raincoats, for it had been drizzling 
all the morning, and when they sat down the medal- 
ribbons which each wore could be seen for the first 
time. Skinner was in the act of handing his 
cigarette-case round, when he caught sight of the 
coloured stripes. He stared for a moment, then blurted 
out, ‘Surely they can’t be war decorations. Yet I 
don’t know ; if not, they must be orders. I say, I ’ve 
made a mess of things; I had no idea you were 
“ anybody.” I thought you were just raw subs, like 
— like I am. I beg pardon, upon my honour.’ 

‘What on earth for?’ asked Oliver genially. 

‘ But those — those ribbons ! Why, you must be 
warriors, and you ’re neither of you as old as I am, 
I ’m sure.’ 

Crawford’s attention had been called to the matter, 
and he fixed his eyes on the ribbons. ‘White and 
purple,’ he muttered in deep tones. ‘ Why, Great 
Marlborough’s shade ! that ’s the ribbon of the new 
Military Cross.’ 

‘ Right, Jimmy,’ said Harris reflectively. 

Crawford’s eyes were fixed on the other ribbons, 
and a great furrow deepened on his forehead as he 
stared, for he was unable to recognise them, and the 
study of war decorations was a favourite hobby of 
his. 

‘ Strange 1 ’ he muttered. ‘ And both wear the same 
decorations, too.’ Then, seeing Vivian’s glance fixed 
upon him, he coloured and said humbly, ‘Your 
pardon. I had no intention of being rude; but I 
— we — that is, we had no idea we were in the 


10 


THE NEW CHUMS. 


company of distinguished oflBcers. Your age took 
us off our guard.’ 

‘ Don’t mention it ; we ’re no distinguished officers, 
just simple soldiers like you all.’ 

‘But those orders,’ and Skinner pointed to the 
ribbons. 

■‘Boy Scouts’ medals,’ murmured Oliver, hiding a 
smile behind his hand. 

Skinner might have swallowed the statement ; but 
Crawford was too deeply read in military lore to be 
deceived, and he said in his solemn tones, ‘ Gentlemen, 
the Wessex Fusiliers are fortunate in possessing such 
distinguished officers in its junior ranks; and we — 
I think I can speak for you two’ — and he glanced 
at Skinner and Harris — ‘ and we are proud to serve 
with you. Your confidence we should have valued, 
and the recital of your experiences, for they must 
have been most interesting, might have beguiled the 
tedium of the journey ; but if you prefer, with that 
modesty which always distinguishes the real hero, 
to say nothing, we shall respect your reserve. Any- 
how, I should esteem it a favour to shake hands 
again with each of you ; ’ and he offered his hand, 
which both Oliver and Vivian grasped warmly, for 
there was, despite what Vivian afterwards described 
as his ‘ military pomposity,’ a simple manliness about 
Crawford that appealed to one. 

‘ Jimmy always says the right thing,* said Skinner 
admiringly. 

‘Right turn — dismiss,’ added Harris, copying 
Crawford’s manner. 

‘Look here,’ said Vivian, to whom anything like 
hero-worship was unbearable, ‘ Hastings and I had 
the luck to be in Germany on the outbreak of the 


THE NEW CHUMS. 


11 


war, and, escaping to Mons, we were in the scrapping 
till we both got temporarily knocked out at Neuve 
Chapelle. WeVe been lucky, and, coming under 
notice, bagged the Military Cross, the Legion of 
Honour, and the Belgian medal, while better men 
have got nothing.* 

The three subs, looked at the two heroes with that 
admiration born in unfledged subs, for those who 
have distinguished themselves in the field; and 
Crawford said, a little diffidently, ‘I suppose you 
wouldn*t — er — think it impertinent if I were to ask 
you a question or two ; for, closely as I have tried 
to study the campaign, there ’s little real information 
to be got, and I ’ve never yet had the good fortune 
to meet any one from the front.* 

‘Fire away!* said Oliver. ‘We only saw what 
went on just around us; but Drummond or I will 
tell you with pleasure all we know about the war.* 

And to Crawford the rest of the journey was a 
dream, so engrossed was he in listening to the experi- 
ences of Oliver and Vivian. From that moment the 
two were heroes on whom Crawford meant to model 
his future conduct. He was aroused by hearing a 
porter shout out the name of their destination, and 
he jumped up in alarm. ‘ Fall in 1 ’ he cried. ‘ I mean, 
get out, for here we are;* and they alighted on to 
the platform, where porters seized their luggage and 
conveyed it to the brake which had been sent down 
to take them to headquarters. 


CHAPTER III. 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 

I T was a very pleasant drive, through a charming 
country, to the camp of the Wessex Fusiliers, 
who were under canvas. Arrived there, the young 
officers reported themselves to the Adjutant, and then 
learnt that the Colonel was absent on duty which 
had taken him to Folkestone. 

Oliver and Vivian took possession of their quarters, 
and soon had things ship-shape. They joined the 
rest of the officers at lunch, and found them a very 
nice lot of fellows. The trio — Harris, Skinner, and 
Crawford — caused a few smiles among the senior 
officers, many of whom had seen home service with 
the Regulars or the Territorials; but, probably on 
account of their little eccentricities, they were more 
welcome than orthodox subalterns would have been. 

Lunch over, there was nothing for the newly joined 
officers to do until the next day, and Oliver proposed 
to Vivian to take a walk and look round the country, 
as they would probably not get very much time for 
doing so once they had taken up their duties. 
Crawford, ever anxious to imbibe information about 
the war, asked to be allowed to make one of the 
party, and Skinner, insatiable for society, as a matter 
of course accompanied Crawford. The studious 
Harris preferred remaining in camp ‘ to unpack and 
make things comfortable.’ 

It turned out to be a very fine afternoon, the rain 
having apparently been left behind in London, and 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


13 


the subs, strolled along for a mile or two, admiring 
the pretty and well-wooded country, until, having 
reached the railway, which here runs through a deep 
cutting, they sprawled lazily amongst the gorse on 
the top of the bank to take a rest for half-an-hour 
before they retraced their steps. 

The bank on which the officers were lying, being 
higher than the one on the opposite side, com- 
manded a good view along the road which ran 
beside the railway. About a hundred yards to the 
left the ground fell away, and the line was on ^ a 
level with the country. At the end of the cutting 
was a signal-box, and just beyond that a fair- sized 
siding, in which were some hundreds of trucks of 
coal and other heavy merchandise. 

Looking to their right, the subs, could see for a very 
long distance, as the line was straight and level. 

The day being hot, Skinner dropped off to sleep ; 
Oliver and Crawford were deep in the discussion of 
the war ; while Vivian, always practical, was looking 
round the country with an eye to its military 
possibilities. 

He had been lying on his chest with his chin 
resting on his hands, when he suddenly cried out in 
low tones, ‘ Drop on the ground, you fellows, and 
make yourselves small for a few minutes 1 ’ 

Oliver, with the ready obedience of the old cam- 
paigner, who knows that often a man’s life depends 
upon the instant and unquestioning obedience of an 
order, dropped flat on his face, and dragged the 
unexpecting Crawford with him. 

‘I say,’ exclaimed the astonished sub., ‘you’ll 
break my glasses.’ 

But Oliver pressed his nose firmly among the 


14 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


short grass, remarking, ‘Don’t speak or move; de- 
pend upon it, Vivian knows what he is doing.’ 

Had Crawford been bidden stand on his head or 
hold his breath by either Oliver or Vivian he would 
have endeavoured to obey, so filled with admiration 
for them was he; hence he lay perfectly still until 
Vivian said, ‘Crawl up here, but keep well behind 
the gorse-bush.’ 

They did as they were bidden, and, glancing down, 
saw an old white-haired man with dark spectacles 
looking up and down the line. Presently he removed 
his spectacles, and, producing a pair of small field- 
glasses, looked up the line attentively. 

‘ What 's the matter, Vivian ? ’ whispered Oliver. 

‘It may be nothing,’ replied Vivian in the same 
tone, ‘or it may be something. There is always an 
element of suspicion attaching to any one who in 
war-time hangs about railway lines along which 
troops or munitions may pass.’ 

‘ By Jove, of course ! ’ agreed Oliver, while Crawford 
regularly quivered with satisfaction to think he was 
sharing an adventure with two such distinguished 
companions. 

The three watched the old man narrowly for some 
minutes, and, to their disappointment, he seemed quite 
harmless; he did not attempt to place a bomb or a 
sleeper on the metals, nor did he show any inclination 
to interfere in any way with the next train that 
came along. 

‘Seems a harmless old body,’ muttered Oliver 
presently. 

‘That’s just it; he looks so old and so harmless 
that the fact of his arriving on a motor-bike rather 
makes me suspicious.’ 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


16 


‘ That old man on a motor-bike ? ’ said Oliver. 

* Exactly; you can just see it up on the road. He 
hid it carefully behind those bushes, then slithered 
down the incline in a way a very old man would 
have found a bit dijSicult. Hallo, he’s got his 
binoculars out again ! ’ 

' What on earth can he be staring at ? ’ 

‘ Why not the signals, Oliver ? ’ 

*By Jove! I never thought of that; and see! the 

old boy has shut up his glasses, and Why, what 

on earth is he doing ? ’ 

This exclamation was called forth by the old man 
taking a thing that looked like a metal box from his 
hip-pocket. Next he tied his handkerchief over his 
nose and mouth, took a bottle of some liquid from 
his breast-pocket, and shook the contents into the 
metal box, which he replaced in his pocket. Re- 
moving the handkerchief, he then set off quickly 
down the line in the direction of the signal-box. 
Glancing up the line, Vivian, who had very strong 
long-distance sight, saw that the signals had been 
dropped for ‘ down-line clear.’ 

‘ There ’s mischief in this,’ he cried. ‘ Crawl back 
out of sight ! Now, up and away ! ’ 

Their side of the cutting being higher than the 
other, any one a little distance from the edge was 
quite invisible to those on the other side; and no 
sooner were they out of sight than, led by Vivian, 
the three of them, in their haste forgetting all about 
Skinner, raced along towards the signal-box. They 
had passed it some distance, when Vivian cautiously 
peeped over just in time to see the old man ascending 
the steps of the signal-box. 

‘ Follow ! ’ he cried, and dashed down the steep 


16 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


bank, across the metals, and made for the signal- 
box. 

As they ran along they, heard the snap that points 
make when they are pulled over ; and Oliver, looking 
at the metals, saw that the points leading into the 
siding had been opened, and that any train coming 
along the down line would dash into a heavy train- 
load of coal, and be smashed to bits. 

The diabolical nature of the design staggered him 
for a moment ; then he jerked out his suspicions to 
his companions. 

* Faster,’ was Vivian’s only comment, and they 
raced along, past the signal-box, and up the steps. 
The door was open, and a curious sight met their 
gaze. The signalman lay in a heap on the floor with 
a white cloth pressed over his face ; a pungent smell 
filled the box, while the old man was feverishly 
tapping at the telegraph instrument. So engrossed 
was he that the first intimation he received of having 
been watched was the three subs, bursting into the 
box. 

Crawford, his blue eyes flashing with excitement, 
cried in his deep voice, ‘ Scoundrel, by the laws of 
warfare you are my prisoner ; deliver your sword ! ’ 

The old man turned round, quick as light whipped 
out an automatic pistol, and fired.* Oliver, who was 
close to Crawford, dashed up the man’s arm, and 
Vivian, wdth a spring like a tiger, hurled himself 
upon the old man, and engaged him in a fierce 
struggle. He found his enemy possessed of great 
strength, and was wondering at it, when in the 
struggle his white hair and beard came off*, and a 
pale, sinister, clean-shaven face was revealed. 

Oliver, who saw this was no time for standing on 



^ Why, what on earth is he doing 

B 


O.H 


Page 15. 




AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


17 


ceremony, at the moment that Vivian had grappled 
with his enemy, made a dash for the hand that held 
the pistol, and, seizing it, wrenched the weapon from 
his grasp. At that instant the false hair and beard 
came off ; both Oliver and Vivian saw the man’s 
face, and both recognised him. 

‘ Lbffel ! ’ cried Vivian, and at the same time he 
struck the rascal so heavy a blow on the temple that 
he fell back stunned. Without a moment’s hesitation 
Vivian dragged him to the door, and toppled him 
down the steps on to the ground. Picking up the 
pistol, he pushed it into Crawford’s hand and said, 
'Go down and guard him. If he comes to, and 
attempts to escape, shoot him.’ 

As Crawford ran down the steps Vivian heard a 
rumble. ' The train ! ’ he cried. * Rush down . to the 
points, and shout out to me when I close them. For 
God’s sake, hurry; hundreds of lives may depend 
on us ! ’ 

Oliver leapt down the steps, and Vivian tugged 
madly at the different levers. JPuff — puff— puff, 
rattle — roar — the train was approaching at terrific 
speed. One after another Vivian tore at the levers. 
Some he could not move. Oh God ! in another moment 
or two the train would be there ; he could see Oliver, 
who shook his head and waved his arms appealingly. 
Rattle — scream — shriek — the train was only a hundred 
yards away when Vivian saw that some of the levers 
were pulled over. It must be one of these, of course ; 
he gripped one, released the catch, slammed it back, 
and saw Oliver signal that it was the right one. 
Thank God, he was in time ! He snatched up a 
red flag he saw lying on the table, thrust his 
head and body through the window, and yelling with 

O.H. B 


18 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


all his might, waved the flag madly just as the 
engine arrived opposite the box. But the driver had 
already shut off steam and applied the brake, for he 
had seen that the advance-signal was against him. 
Vivian caught a glimpse of a grimy figure in shirt- 
sleeves looking up at him ; then with a roar and a 
screech, as dozens of British Tommies who were 
standing at the windows waved their hands at the 
signal-box, the train dashed past. 

A bell began ringing loudly and persistently in 
the signal-box; but Vivian took no notice. Indeed, 
it would have been no good, for he did not under- 
stand the working of the system. 

He dashed down the steps, passing at the side of 
the box Crawford, who with pale face was grimly 
standing guard over his prisoner, who lay as though 
dead. Oliver, as pale as Crawford, and with the per- 
spiration standing in big drops on his forehead, was 
looking after the train. 

‘ Phew, that was a close shave ! ’ he muttered when 
he saw Vivian. 

' It was, but I think the danger is over now. The 
signalman behind must be told what has happened ; 
but, unfortunately, I don’t understand how the thing 
works.’ 

‘ Well, the train is pulling up.’ 

‘So I see; indeed, it has almost stopped. We must 
tell them how matters stand.’ 

They both ran rapidly after the train, which was 
then almost at a standstill, and in a few minutes 
came up with it. 

‘ What is the matter ? ’ asked the rear guard, who 
had alighted from his van. 

‘Nothing, I hope, now,’ replied Vivian; ‘but there 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


19 


might have been. Perhaps I had better have a few 
words with the officer in command of the men in the 
train.’ 

* That ’s him, I think, waving his arm to us,’ said 
the guard. 

‘ Come with us, will you ? We may want your 
help.’ 

Reaching the carriage, out of the window of which 
an elderly officer was leaning, Vivian requested a few 
private words. The officer, who was the colonel of 
the regiment in the train, alighted with his adjutant, 
and in a minute Vivian had told him what had 
happened. 

The guard of the train, who had been of the party, 
turned pale on hearing the news. ‘We must pull 
past the next signal at once,’ he said, ‘ and keep the 
line behind us blocked. There ’s another troop train 
only a few minutes behind us. I ’ll tell the driver 
what ’s happened, and get him to move on a little.’ 

While the train went puffing slowly forward, the 
Colonel, Vivian, Oliver, and the guard went to the 
box, where the guard, who had once been a signalman, 
at once got to work with the telegraph apparatus. 
In a minute he reported ‘ all right ; but,’ he added, 
‘the man at the other signal-box was beginning to 
wonder what had happened.’ 

‘Tell him to send the second train forward,’ said 
Colonel Livesay. ‘ I wish to consult with the officer 
in command,’ he explained to Vivian and Oliver. 
‘This is a most serious matter. It’s monstrous to 
think that here, right in the very heart of our coun- 
try, the enemy should be able to attempt such a 
diabolical outrage. Let ’s go down and have a look 
at the scoundrel who attempted it.’ 


20 


AN EXCITING FIVE MINUTES. 


They descended the steps of the signal-box, and 
there another shock awaited them. 

Crawford lay on the ground insensible, bleeding 
from a wound on the head, while the prisoner had 
completely disappeared. Crawford had in all proba- 
bility been lying thus for some minutes, and in the 
excitement had been unnoticed by the various actors 
in the scene as they arrived at the signal-box. 

‘The rascal must have recovered and attacked 
Crawford when he was off his guard,' said Vivian ; 
‘ but we may be able to overtake him yet.’ 

Attention at that moment was drawn to another 
khaki-clad figure who, with a shout to those round 
the signal-box, came slithering down the incline and 
across the metals. 

‘Here, I say, you chaps,’ he exclaimed, ‘what on 
earth has happened, and why did you leave me all 
alone ; and what the dickens is all the racket about, 

and Oh, I beg pardon, sir; I didn’t notice you 

at first;’ and, saluting Colonel Livesay, Skinner, 
whom Oliver and Vivian had for the moment en- 
tirely forgotten, stood looking round him in a puzzled 
fashion. 


CHAPTER IV. 


COLONEL LIVESAY TAKES EVIDENCE. 

HE astonished look which Colonel Livesay 



JL turned upon the rather shamefaced Skinner 
showed Oliver that an explanation was necessary. 

* Four of us left the camp together, sir,’ he said ; 
‘ but while we were taking a rest Lieutenant Skinner 
dropped off to sleep, and when we ran across to the 
signal-box, in our hurry we forgot to wake him/ 

* H’m/ sniffed the Colonel, ‘ when I was a subaltern 
we kept awake in the daytime at any rate ; but now 
it appears that, like children, subalterns want their 
afternoon nap/ 

Skinner looked duly abashed, until, suddenly catch- 
ing sight of Crawford, over whom Vivian was 
bending, dabbing his face with a wet handkerchief, 
he forgot all about the Colonel and cried out, 
* Jimmy hurt! Who did it? — Jimmy, Jimmy !’ and, 
dropping on his knees beside his friend, he took one 
of his hands and looked with the greatest consterna- 
tion upon his pale features. ‘ It must have been that 
fellow I saw sneaking off on the motor-bike,’ he cried, 
as the idea crossed his mind. 

'Up on top of the cutting?’ asked Oliver; and 
Skinner was about to reply, when Crawford drew a 
deep sigh, opened his eyes, and after muttering 
incoherently for a few moments, sat stark upright 
and cried out, ‘Platoon will advance; fix bayonets; 
charge 1 ’ 


22 


COLONEL LIVESAY TAKES EVIDENCE. 


Colonel Livesay stared at the little man in surprise. 

‘ He, at all events, is not much hurt,’ he said. 

‘ Now, how about the signalman ? ’ 

The guard, who had remained all the time in the 
signal-box, reported that he had come to, and was 
asking what had happened ; and Colonel Livesay 
set about getting all the information he could. 

Skinner’s tale was soon told. He awoke suddenly 
— what woke him he did not know — to find he was 
alone. He looked all round for his companions, 
but the only living being he could see was the man 
scrambling up the bank on the opposite side of the 
cutting. The fellow staggered a little now and then, 
as though he had been drinking, but he reached 
the top and wheeled out a motor-cycle, which had 
apparently been hidden behind a bush. Catching 
sight of Skinner watching him from the other side 
of the cutting, he had shaken his fist and yelled out 
something which Skinner did not catch. He had 
then mounted and ridden away; on which Skinner, 
thinking his behaviour suspicious, had run along for 
some distance to see where he went, but presently 
losing sight of the cycle, had given up the ohase, 
and slowly retraced his steps. On again coming in 
sight of the signal-box, to his surprise he had seen 
his friends outside it, and had hailed them as shown. 

The signalman, who had revived, next told his 
story. The old gentleman, he said, was a Belgian 
refugee who had been staying in the neighbourhood. 
He had been a stationm aster in Brussels before the war, 
and expressed himself as much interested in English 
railway work. He had several times come up into 
the signal-box, and had asked lots of questions about 
the English system, explaining the difference between 


COLONEL LIVESAY TAKES EVIDENCE. 


23 


that and the Belgian. On that afternoon the old 
man had come into the box, had offered him a cigar, 
and had then suddenly dabbed something on his 
mouth, after which the signalman had remembered 
no more until he again came to his senses to find the 
guard in charge of his levera 

Crawford’s tale was that he had watched his 
prisoner intently for some time, during which the 
man had not moved an eyelid. Convinced that he 
was either unconscious or dead, Crawford had stepped 
out on the line to see if his friends were returning, 
when he received a smashing blow on the head and 
fell stunned. 

Colonel Livesay, having gathered thus much, decided 
what to do. He was of the ‘ hush it up ’ school, and 
at once bound every one over to secrecy. He had 
got that far when the second troop train arrived, and 
was stopped by signal He went down and held a 
brief conversation with the officer in command. 

The signalman said he was by that time recovered 
sufficiently to take over his duties again; but that 
Colonel Livesay would not allow. He learnt that 
the other signalman lived in a cottage not far away, 
and Oliver was despatched to find him and order him 
at once to take over the box. 

Meanwhile Colonel Livesay, leaving the guard in 
charge of the box, ordered all the others to get into 
the train, and they went on to the nearest town, 
about two miles distant. Here the stationmaster 
was consulted, and he, after having been bound over 
to secrecy, made the necessary arrangements to ensure 
the safe running of the trains. Crawford had the 
cut on his head bound up by a local doctor, and 
the signalman was handed over to the custody of the 


24 


COLONEL LIVESAY TAKES EVIDENCE. 


stationmaster. The Adjutant went on with the second 
train. Vivian, Skinner, and Crawford were ordered to 
return to their regiment, and, with Oliver, to remain 
there until they heard further from Colonel Livesay, 
who announced his intention of at once returning to 
London to report to the War Office. 

Some half-hour later the subs., who managed to 
hire a motor-car in the town, found themselves 
bowling along toward the signal-box again in order 
to pick up Oliver. 

‘ Thus ends a very pretty adventure,' said Vivian, 
as he settled himself comfortably on the back-seat. 

‘So I should say,' said Skinner; ‘but it’s all a 
mystery to me. I dared not ask any questions while 
that old Colonel, who put me in mind of a prosecuting 
counsel, was with us ; but for Heaven’s sake tell me 
what happened. It 's a maddening mystery to me.' 

Vivian related the events the reader already knows, 
and Skinner listened literally with open mouth. 

‘ Here in England, right in the midst of thousands 
of troops ! Why, upon my soul, I can hardly believe 
it ! ’ he cried when Vivian had finished. 

‘You’ll know more of German methods when 
you’ve been campaigning a bit,’ said Vivian. ‘But 
here we are at the signal-box.’ 

Oliver, who had roused the second signalman out 
of bed, was just starting back to camp ; and, taking 
him in the car, away they went. They had to make 
a three-mile detour to reach a bridge by which they 
could cross the line, and then they rattled off to 
camp, which they reached about six o’clock. Vivian, 
as senior subaltern, told the others to say nothing 
of what had happened until he had seen the Colonel, 
who had then returned ; and, Skinner and Crawford 


COLONEL LIVESAY TAKES EVIDENCE. 25 

going to their tents, Oliver and Vivian went off to 
find Colonel Hastings, whom both were anxious to 
see. 

Colonel Hastings was a fine, martial-looking ^inan, 
not much over fifty years of age, and he looked as 
fit and hale as though still of the age when, as a 
subaltern, he had fought in the Egyptian campaign, 
the medal and star for which were among his many 
decorations. 

He was, of course, delighted to see his son, and 
scarcely less so to see Vivian, and the War Office 
would have been horrified to learn that the first five 
minutes were taken up talking of purely personal 
matters before a word was uttered on business. Then 
the youChs told the Colonel what had happened ; and, 
used only as he was to fighting honourable, though 
ofttimes savage, foes, the Colonel was both shocked 
and horrified at the tale he heard. He was not of 
the * hush it up ’ school, and was for giving publicity 
to such a diabolical attempt, so that the British public 
might know the sort of foe it was fighting against, 
and might be doubly on its guard. But in the face 
of Colonel Livesay’s action he could do nothing until 
the War Office view was learnt, and so silence was 
the order of the day. Not that the story could be 
kept quiet altogether ; Crawford’s bandaged head 
needed some explaining, and rumours were floating 
about that exaggerated the actual facts in a ludicrous 
manner. 

At mess that evening Colonel Hastings, in a neat 
speech, welcomed the new officers, and added that 
though one of them was his own son, he might be 
pardoned for saying that they were all proud to 
number in their ranks two officers who had already 


26 


COLONEL LIVES AY TAKES EVIDENCE. 


seen much service against that foe whom they all 
hoped very soon to meet. 

Skinner, who had dined generously, was smiling 
to himself as though on the best of terms with the 
world at large, and, if the truth must be told, 
was paying but little attention to the Colonel’s 
remarks, when suddenly the import of the words, 
‘though one of them is my own son,’ struck him. 
Dolt that he was, when Oliver had told him his name 
was Hastings he had remarked upon the coincidence, 
but it had never dawned upon him that he and the 
Colonel might be related even, let alone be father 
and son ; and he remembered also that he had talked 
rather freely to Oliver about the Colonel. Horrified 
at the thought that what he had said might possibly 
get back to the Colonel’s ears, and not noticing that 
his commanding oflScer was still speaking, he jumped 
to his feet, and looking round, blurted out, ‘I say, 
Hastings, old chap ’ then stopped dead. 

‘Well, sir,’ asked the Colonel in freezing tones, 
‘ have you anything to say to me ? ’ 

‘ Yes — I mean, no, sir, not a word. That is, I was 
so surprised that I was going to speak to your son, 
and I— I’ 

Harris pulled his friend down on to his chair and 
whispered, ‘ Shut up, you blundering lunatic ! Don’t 
you see you ’re making an ass of yourself ? ’ 

‘And acting in direct contravention of military 
etiquette,’ growled Crawford ; while Oliver, who saw 
and understood the reason for poor Skinner’s sudden 
agitation, had to bury his face in his table-napkin to 
hide his smiles. Afterwards, when he explained the 
matter to his father, the Colonel, grim disciplinarian 
though he was, felt obliged to smile. 


COLONEL LIVESAY TAKES EVIDENCE. 27 

As soon as ever he could, Skinner disappeared from 
the table, only to be severely quizzed by his new 
acquaintances, and chaffed by Oliver and Harris. 

Before the officers left the mess a telegram arrived 
for the Colonel, who, after reading it, called Vivian, 
Oliver, Skinner, and Crawford to him. 

*I have just received a wire,* he said, ‘which 
instructs me to give you orders to report yourselves 
at the War Office to-morrow morning. You will 
attend orderly-room before you start for London, 
that I may just cast my eye over you.’ 

Later Vivian and Oliver had a few words with 
the Colonel in his tent, and as they were making for 
their own they met Skinner and Crawford. 

‘ I say, you fellows, I don’t half like this summons 
to London,’ said Skinner. ‘ What do you think 
about it ? ’ 

‘ It may be your first step on the steep and 
slippery ladder of promotion,’ said Oliver. 

‘ Or the “ brass hats ” * may want you to give them a 
wrinkle on hew to drop off to sleep at any hour or in 
any company,’ suggested Vivian gravely. 

‘More likely they’ll want to cross-question us on 
the whole affair,’ groaned Crawford; ‘and if I get off 
without a court-martial for having allowed that 
scoundrel to escape I shall be lucky 1 ’ 

* Staff-oflBcers. 


CHAPTER V. 


AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY. 



‘HE first train by which the officers could get 


JL away for town on the following morning was 
not until after ten, and there was ample time before 
they started for a lecture from the Colonel as to how 
they should conduct themselves. 

Skinner, who seemed to have a great awe of 
Colonel Hastings, was very quiet on the way to 
the station ; but once he and the others were 
comfortably seated in a smoking compartment, with 
the prospect of a day in town before them, his 
naturally buoyant disposition asserted itself, and he 
chattered away gaily. 

Crawford, whose head ached as a result of the 
crack he had received, seemed to be thinking deeply, 
and during a pause in the conversation he said to 
Vivian, ‘ Did I dream it, or did I not hear you say, 
when that fellow’s false beard came off in the signal- 
box, that he was a man named something or other — 
I didn’t quite catch what, but some one probably 
whom you had met abroad ? ’ 

‘I did. Both Hastings and I had cause to know 
him very well.’ 

‘ Indeed ! You know, that makes the whole affair 
doubly mysterious. If you ’ve no objection, I should 
dearly like to hear all about that gentleman, and 
there’s nothing like a yarn to beguile the tedium 
of a journey.’ 


AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY. 


29 


‘There really is not much to tell,’ said Vivian, 
‘ but such as there is you ’re welcome to. I may tell 
you that before the ' war I was in Germany, on 
business not altogether unconnected with the British 
Secret Service. I believe I at last came under the 
suspicion of the German Foreign Office, and the man 
whom I had employed as servant having been called 
away from Berlin on business, which I now believe 
to have been all a put-up affair, I engaged a man 
named Loffel, who came to me with the highest 
credentials. I don’t know whether Loffel was aware 
that I always suspected him, but I did ; and although 
he watched me like a cat, he never once caught me 
tripping. Having this fellow with me as a spy on 
my actions had its advantages, too; for, as they 
thought I was safe in his hands, my movements out 
of the house were untrammelled by the authorities. 

‘Just before the outbreak of war Hastings and I 
were in Mainz, and I knew Loffel was only waiting 
till war was declared to denounce me as a spy. We 
got to know how things were shaping just before 
the announcement, and played Master Loffel a trick 
which kept him quiet until we had got a good many 
miles away from Mainz. I can picture his rage 
when he found he was outwitted, for his is one of 
those still natures whose passions run deep. 

‘ Well, we saw nothing of him till we spied him in 
Liege during the siege, and though we made a dash 
for him, he managed to escape. We came .across him 
again when we were prisoners in the hands of the 
Germans, and he did his best, by his evidence, to get 
us shot ; but he didn’t succeed in that even, and we 
eventually managed to escape. ^ I never saw the man 
again until yesterday, and had long ago forgotten 


30 


AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY. 


him as one either shot or hanged, for he richly 
deserves either fate. He was the last man I should 
ever have thought would have ventured to England, 
for he spoke the language very poorly, and that was 
probably the reason why he gave himself out to 
be a Belgian.’ 

‘ You did not recognise him at first, I suppose ? ’ 

‘Not in the slightest. If it hadn’t been for his 
wig and beard coming off I should never have dreamt 
it was he. As it is, that wig and that pistol are 
valuable proofs against him if ever we catch him, 
though I doubt much whether we shall ; he ’s far too 
cunning.’ 

From Waterloo a taxi conveyed the quartet to the 
end of Northumberland Avenue — Vivian was too 
diplomatic to drive right up to the classic doors of 
the War Office, at which such small fry as subalterns 
should arrive on foot. Each assumed an aspect of 
gravity, as becoming those who were about to enter 
the august ‘ presence of some of those brilliant 
luminaries who control the destinies of the British 
soldier. 

In due course they were passed into a waiting- 
room, while a junior clerk patronisingly inquired 
their business, left them for some time, then shipped 
them off to another part of the building and handed 
them over to a second young gentleman, who even- 
tually brought them to their destination. 

Here they were ushered into a room, at the table 
of which sat four people, one a red-faced, choleric 
old colonel in uniform, the others civilians. At 
the centre of the table was a middle-aged man, with 
fair hair cut till it looked like a hogged mane, and 
wearing large glasses. A stout, comfortable-looking 


AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY; 


31 


gentleman sat beside the bristly-haired official, while 
the fourth was evidently a shorthand clerk. 

The subs, were accommodated with chairs, and 
then the spectacled gentleman questioned and cross- 
questioned them all, constantly referring to voluminous 
notes. 

The elderly colonel fidgeted, cleared his throat, and 
drummed his fingers in a very impatient way ; and 
when Vivian explained that he threw the ‘ foreigner,’ 
as he was instructed to call Loffel, out of the signal- 
box, he broke out with, ‘And why, sir, didn’t you 
take proper means to secure him ? Surely there 
were enough of you ? ’ 

‘ I handed him over to Mr Crawford’s care.’ 

‘ Bah, sir ! as senior officer you should have done 
that yourself. Why on earth didn’t you ? ’ 

‘Because, sir,’ replied Vivian firmly but respect- 
fully, ‘I never gave the man another thought. It 
seemed to me that it was more important to prevent 
a catastrophe to several hundred British subjects 
than to ensure the capture of a miserable German 
spy.’ 

‘Tut, tut, sir’ began the Colonel, when the 

bristly-haired gentleman, whose name was Rowley, 
said, ‘ Pardon me. Colonel, this inquiry is purely a 
civilian one so far. You are here in case I want mili- 
tary opinion ; ’ and while the Colonel blew his nose 
violently, Mr Rowley said to Vivian coldly, ‘ Aro you 
aware, sir, that the identity of the person you so 
glibly describe as a German spy has not been 
established ? Do you know that such rash assertions, 
if made outside, may lead his Majesty’s Government 
into serious trouble ? ’ 

‘I was not aware of it,’ replied Vivian. ‘I was 


32 AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY. ' 

under the impression that we were at war with 
Germany.’ 

Here Oliver almost betrayed himself by laughing 
out loud. 

‘ And what if we are, sir ? Do you not realise 
that, though the military population may be killing 
each other, we civil servants still observe the ordinary 
decencies of civilised diplomatic circles ? ’ 

‘ Quite so.’ 

‘ And do you not know that to make unfounded 
accusations against anybody is against the law — the 
civil law — and is also likely to act to your prejudice 
in your advancement in the army ? ’ 

‘ I am fully aware of it.’ 

‘ Then why do you do it ? ’ 

‘ I did not.’ 

‘ You did not ! But you described this person as a 
German spy ! ’ 

‘ And so he was.’ 

‘ You persist ? ’ 

‘ Most emphatically.’ 

‘ Can you prove your words ? ’ 

‘ Easily.’ 

‘ Then do so.’ 

Vivian, in calm tones, related how he had recog- 
nised LofFel, and what he knew of him beforehand. 

Mr Rowley looked very much taken aback, until 
a sudden inspiration seemed to seize him. ‘ Of 
course, what you say will be placed on record, and 
is valuable evidence, but you might be mistaken. 
You admit that you saw the man’s face for only a 
few moments.’ 

‘ Quite so.’ 

‘And uncorroborated evidence will not convict. 


AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY. 


33 


That is clearly laid down in the King’s Regulations 
concerning courts-martial.’ 

* True.’ 

‘Then I still say you should have been more 
careful in rashly describing this unknown person 
as a German spy on your own suspicion alone.’ 

‘ I have not done so.’ 

‘You have a witness, then ?’ 

‘ I have, sir.’ 

‘ Why did you not say so before ? ’ 

‘Because I have not as yet been asked,’ replied 
Vivian, as calmly as ever. ‘ Mr Hastings, here, also 
knew LolFel in Germany ; he was with me on more 
than one occasion when we ran up against him in 
his capacity as spy, and he is as convinced as I 
am that the man who attempted to wreck the train 
was Loffel himself.’ 

Mr Rowley looked abashed. He had apparently 
been trying to make light of the whole affair, and 
had it not been for the wig and the pistol, was 
inclined to regard the idea of the foreigner in the 
signal-box as somewhat exaggerated But by the 
identification of Lofiel the wind was taken out of 
his sails. He very soon concluded his inquiry, 
thanked the oflScers, told them that they must 
observe the greatest secrecy in the matter, as if 
these things got abroad they did a lot of harm — 
he did not say to whom — and then dismissed 
them. 

‘ Well, I ’m ’ began Oliver when ,they were 

once more on the pavement in Whitehall. 

‘ Yes, I know,’ laughed Vivian ; ‘ don’t excite your- 
self. When you’ve seen as much of a certain side 
of civilian official life as I have — mind, I say a 

O.H. c 


84 


AN OFFICIAL INQUIRY. 


certain side — you’ll not be surprised at our experi- 
ence of this morning.’ 

‘To think of military men — British officers/ said 
Crawford — ‘ being subjected to cross-examination by 
a civilian understrapper— why ’ 

‘ Hush, Crawford ! ’ laughed Oliver ; ‘ don’t speak 
slightingly of the man who might have sent you 
before a court-martial for losing a prisoner.’ 

‘ I was afraid I should have got into trouble,’ said 
Crawford. ‘I deserved it. But if I wasn’t vastly 
mistaken, Mr Rowley was jolly- glad the fellow Ldffel 
escaped, and thus prevented the whole affair becoming 
public.’ 

‘ Look here, what ’s the use of worrying about the 
thing ? ’ said Skinner. ‘ It doesn’t matter to us, after 
all. I suppose the big- wigs in the War Office know 
how to manage their own affairs best, the same as 
my dad knows how to manage his business, which 
always seemed to me a jolly silly way. But he 
made a lot of money out of it. So let ’s have lunch, 
and don’t worry.’ 

‘ Sound advice,’ agreed Oliver, and the whole of 
them went off westward. 


CHAPTER VI. 


CHEERY DICK ‘TAKES OVER.’ 

I N his knowledge of London, Skinner easily took 
first place among the four, and he piloted them 
to a restaurant where they lunched comfortably and 
well. Availing themselves of Colonel Hastings’s 
permission, given before they left camp, they de- 
voted the afternoon to a theatre, where the prin- 
cipal part of the audience was soldiers — for, since 
they were doing all that lay in their power for 
‘King and Country,’ they had a perfect right to 
enjoy themselves; then, catching the evening train, 
they arrived safely in camp. 

The Colonel was amused at their version of what 
happened at the War Office, and told them that in 
all probability they had heard the last of the incident 
— which proved to be the case. 

The police were put on the track of Loffel, but 
they never found him ; he had completely disappeared. 
The signalman was severely reprimanded ‘for allow- 
ing a stranger to enter his box, contrary to the 
regulations of the company,’ but beyond that he was 
not punished. The local papers got hold of a version 
of the affair, but the whole truth never leaked out; 
and the London papers, thanks perhaps to the Censor, 
did not even allude to what might have been one 
of the most terrible railway accidents of modern 
times. 

The only real effect the attempt had was to cause 


36 


CHEERY DICK ‘TAKES OVER.’ 


a military guard to be mounted at the cutting in 
future; and, as the Wessex Fusiliers had the honour 
of supplying that guard, many a sentry, as he walked 
his lonely beat on a drenching wet night, hoped that 
the man through whose misdeed he was there might 
receive his deserts with heaped measure. 

Oliver and Vivian soon settled down in their new 
regiment; and though the work was hard, the time 
passed pleasantly. Skinner found on several occasions 
that the Colonel was not so lamb-like as Oliver had 
made out, and he soon learnt that, he had not by any 
means done with the drill-book. Crawford, on the 
other hand, was delighted with his Colonel, and talked 
enthusiastically of parapets, revetments, rapid-fire, 
bombsj high explosives, asphyxiating gases, and the 
hundred-and-one other things that a subaltern ought 
to understand in the present war. He liked to learn 
from actual experience, as Harris preferred learning 
from books, and so the two seemed never tired of 
discussing the relative merits of practice and pre- 
cept. On account of his peculiarities, Crawford was 
generally spoken of amongst his brother-officers as 
the ‘ General ; ’ Harris was known as the ‘ Fiddler,* 
because he played exceedingly well upon the violin ; 
and by an admixture of Skinner’s names with his 
father’s business he was dubbed the ‘Norman Sausage,’ 
‘ Sausage Skinner,’ or simply ‘ Sausage.’ 

The day’s work generally commenced with an hour 
of Swedish drill, which Skinner, who was inclined to 
be stout, heartily detested. When possible, he evaded 
the drill, and when he could not, performed it in a 
rather lackadaisical manner. The Adjutant, a re- 
markably keen-eyed officer, noticed this proclivity 
of Skinner’s, and several times fell foul of him about 


CHEERY DICK ‘TAKES OVER.’ 


37 


it. But Skinner lapsed frequently, and the Adjutant 
thought of a way to cure him. The recruits took a 
course of Swedish drill in the afternoon under a non- 
commissioned ojBSicer, and one evening Skinner was 
horrified to read in orders that he was to take the 
recruits in Swedish drill ‘ until further orders.’ His 
fellow-subs, laughed at him, and rather enjoyed the 
joke, making a point of whispering to him as they 
passed him on the parade-ground while he was 
taking his perspiring class, ‘Cheer up, old fellow, 
and Gott strafe Sweden.’ 

Oliver and Vivian, accustomed to the regular 
soldier, found the Territorial somewhat different. The 
majority of the men came from the middle classes, 
and a sprinkling even from the upper. They were 
more intelligent than the ordinary Tommy, learned 
more quickly, and always endeavoured to under- 
stand the;reason of the various movements and evolu- 
tions they had to perform. There was an enthusiasm 
quite their own amongst them, and a striving to ‘ get 
on with the job,’ so that they might the sooner get to 
the front, help to bring the war to a finish, and 
return to their civil occupations ; for very few of them 
loved soldiering for its own sake, but found them- 
selves soldiers on purely patriotic grounds. ‘ Smart- 
ness,’ as understood by the regular soldier, was 
deficient. The drill-sergeants, mostly old soldiers, 
did their best, but the Wessex did not see the reason 
for it ; and though sentries efficiently performed the 
duties assigned to them, and soldiers saluted their 
officers punctiliously, there was not that ‘ cut ’ about 
the movements that Vivian had been used to in the 
Guards. 

‘ I dare say it will work out all right,’ he said to 


38 CHEERY DICK 'TAKES OVER.' 

Oliver one day when they happened to be discuss- 
ing the matter; ‘but it is not exactly according to 
the old traditions of the army. The men are keen 
enough, but they don’t attain that automaton-like 
precision which we have always been led to believe 
inseparable from real discipline. There’s no doubt 
this is a “ new army ” in more ways than one.’ 

‘I expect they’ll fight all right,’ replied Oliver, 
‘ and that ’s the main thing.’ 

‘ I hope so, though I sometimes wonder whether 
they don’t study the theory of the thing a bit too 
much. The man who obeys blindly is probably less 
liable to get panicky.’ 

‘ Well, Vivian, in the words of a celebrated Cabinet 
Minister, we must “ wait and see.” ’ 

The friends were still talking when a sergeant of 
their company approached, and, saluting, said that 
Private Rock requested a few words with either of 
them. Oliver and Vivian looked up, and beheld 
behind the sergeant a man who was presumably the 
person in question. 

Private Rock, doomed to play a not unimportant 
part in the following pages, was standing rigidly at 
attention, heels together, toes at an angle of forty- 
five degrees, body erect, palms of his hands pressed 
against his thighs, eyes looking squarely to his front. 
He was of medium size, clean-shaven, with a face 
absolutely devoid of expression. He might have 
been any age from thirty to fifty, was scrupulously 
clean, and, what was very unusual in the Wessex 
Fusiliers, he wore a double row of medal-ribbons on 
his breast. 

‘ Well, my man, what do you want ? ’ asked Vivian. 

‘ To be your servant, sir,’ replied Rock. 


CHEERY DICK ‘TAKES OVER.* 39 

‘ But I don’t want a servant,’ said Vivian, in some 
surprise. ‘ I ’ve got one.’ 

‘I shouldn’t ha’ thought so, sir, by the look o’ 
the tent,’ sniffed Rock. ‘Mucked-up; that’s what 
I calls it.’ 

Oliver could not help smiling. ‘You’re somewhat 
outspoken in your opinions,’ he remarked. 

‘ Always was, sir, from the first day I joined the 
drums. “ Call a spade a spade,” I says. When shall 
I take over ? ’ 

‘I’ve told you we have a man,’ repeated Vivian. 

‘ Look ’ere, sir,’ went on Rock, unbending from his 
stiff attitude of attention, ‘you’re a Guardsman, 
I’m told, and you’ll know what things are. I’ve 
done my twenty-three in the old Fightin’ Fifth, and 
I reckon they know what things are. Now, speakin’ 
together, as one soldier what’s got honours on ’is 
breast to another what’s got the same, I ask you, 
are you content to ’ave your traps an’ belongin’s 
mucked about by a bloomin’ Terrier who, I dessay, 
six months ago was hoein’ taters or drivin’ a 
quill?’ 

‘ Speak more respectfully. Rock,’ interposed the 
sergeant sharply. 

Private Rock gave the sergeant a look evidently 
intended to wither him up. ‘I knows my duty, 
sargint* he said, laying particular stress upon the 
last word. ‘ I ♦could ’ave ’ad the “ dog’s elbow ” 
[stripes] on my arm half-a-dozen times since I joined 
this crowd if I ’d ha’ wanted ’em, or I could ha’ bin 
the Colonel’s or Adjutant’s servant, both of ’em sol- 
diers, mind you — real soldiers. I ’ve fought in four 
campaigns, an’ I ’ve soldiered in every quarter o’ the 
world, an’ don’t you forget it. I’ve served under 


40 


CHEERY DICK ‘TAKES OVER.' 


Wolseley' — Wolsey he called it — ‘an’ Evelyn Wood, 
Johnny French an’ Ian Hamilton, Kitchener, an’ 
poor old “ Bobs,” who was worth the whole lot.’ 

‘My good fellow,’ said Vivian impatiently, ‘don’t 
speak of our most illustrious Generals in that way.’ 

‘ No offence, sir ; I ’m speakin’ of orficers who knew 
Dick Bock as well as they knew their own families. 
I may say they was friends o’ mine.’ 

‘ Well, you cut along,’ said Vivian, ‘ and I ’ll speak 
to the Colonel about the matter. About turn ! Quick 
march 1 ’ 

Like an automaton, Rock saluted, pivoted round, 
and marched away. When he was out of sight both 
Vivian and Oliver had to smile. 

‘ Where on earth did you find that curiosity, ser- 
geant ? ’ asked the former. 

‘He joined us some months ago, sir,’ replied the 
sergeant. ‘He never ought to have been accepted, 
for he’s years over the age, but he said he was 
thirty-eight. He ’s spent all his life in the army, I 
believe, and he’ll argue on parade with the Adjutant 
himself. He ’s been ofiered stripes, which he refused ; 
and to get him out of the ranks — for there ’s no doubt 
he ’s forgotten more about drill than most of us ever 
knew — the Colonel made him an orderly, and he 
hangs about criticising everything. He spins yarns 
by the hour, and is the most confirmed grumbler and 
pessimist in the regiment, for which the men have 
christened him Cheery Dick.’ 

‘Well, I’m sure we ought to feel honoured with his 
offer of service,’ laughed Oliver. 

‘ He said the first time he saw you and Mr 
Drummond that he would be your servant, sir.’ 

‘ The deuce he did! Well, we shall see,’ said Vivian; 


CHEERY DICK ‘TAKES OVER.’ 


41 


and, the sergeant departing, he and Oliver had a good 
laugh about the matter. 

That afternoon, on coming to their tent after 
parade, what was the surprise of both of them to find 
that their belongings had been rearranged, the beds 
shifted, trunks stowed away, and two deck-chairs 
substituted, a new looking-glass hung on the tent- 
pole, a small bamboo table covered with a gaudy 
tablecloth provided, with a pickle-bottle full of cut 
flowers standing upon it ! And there, seated in one 
of the chairs, smoking a pipe, was Cheery Dick, 
looking quite at ease and perfectly at home. 

He rose and saluted the officers. ‘ Everything all 
correct, gentlemen ? ’ he said. 

‘ But what are you doing here ? ’ asked Vivian. 

‘ I Ve taken over, sir,’ replied Rock. 

‘ Where ’s our own man ? ’ 

‘Gone back to ’is platoon, where ’e ought to be, 
a-learnin’ of ’is work, instead o’ loafin’ about ’ere,’ 
replied Rock. ‘You gentlemen are real soldiers, an’ 
’ave got to be looked after by a real soldier.’ And, 
saluting again, he left the tent. 

‘Well, of all the dashed impudence!’ cried Vivian. 
‘ I ’ve a good mind to order him under arrest.’ 

‘ Let him alone, Vivian,’ grinned Oliver ; ‘ he ’s as 
good as a tonic, and he knows his business, too. Just 
look how comfortable he ’s made things.’ 

‘But, my dear boy, he’s actually ordering us 
about.’ 

‘Never mind; let’s ask the pater about it 
to-night.’ 

And so they did. 

Colonel Hastings laughed heartily. ‘ Stick to the 
old rascal, boys,’ he said. ‘He’s one of those old 


42 CHEERY DICK ‘ TAKES OVER.' 

soldiers that are a perfect nuisance in a battalion 
like ours. He ’s a walking drill-book, with a chronic 
grievance ; he ’d stir up strife in a regiment of saints 
if he set his mind to it. I ’ve given him several jobs 
to keep him off parade and out of the men’s way. If 
he doesn’t settle down with you I shall have to get 
rid of him. But he ’s a good soldier, and I should be 
sorry to do that ; so keep him, and see what you can 
do with him. It will keep him out of mischief.’ 

‘Very well,’ agreed Vivian, who would have done 
anything to please the Colonel; ‘we’ll give him a 
trial.’ And so it came to pass that Cheery Dick took 
Oliver and Vivian under his charge. 


CHAPTER VII. 


CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING. 

D ay by day the Wessex Fusiliers improved in 
drill and discipline. Hard work was the order 
of the day, and the men ably seconded the efforts of 
the officers. The Colonel was a strict disciplinarian, 
and the Adjutant a splendid drill. The latter, though 
a younger man, had seen almost as much service as 
Rock himself. He had won a well-merited commis- 
sion from the ranks in the days when such a feat 
was almost as rare as winning the Victoria Cross; 
and, having retired from the army on a pension, at 
the first call for men, like so many other valiant old 
soldiers, had given up a lucrative civil employment 
and returned to stand by his country in its hour of 
danger. The debt which the Empire owes to such 
men will not be fully realised until the storm and 
stress of the war is over, and the Napier or the King- 
lake who is fated with his pen to render immortal 
the deeds now being performed has given his work 
to the world. 

Trench-digging formed a large part of the work of 
•the Wessex, and great was the rivalry between the 
different platoons as to which could perform its 
allotted task in the shortest time. 

Crawford was a great enthusiast at digging ; while 
Harris was always inventing new methods of piling 
up the earth to form the parapet, of shoring up the 
sides, or of effectively roofing. Skinner voted the 


44 


CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING. 


whole business a bore, and confessed that, next to 
Swedish drill, he hated trench-work most. ‘Upon 
my word,’ he said at mess one evening, after having 
spent eleven hours in pouring rain superintending 
the completion of some existing trenches — ‘ upon 
my word, this trench-work is about the limit. I 
think I’d almost as soon be a quill-driver eis a 
navvy.’ 

‘You haven’t begun the real thing yet, Sausage,’ 
said Crawford cheerfully. ‘ Wait till you ’re doing 
the same work with Jack Johnsons dropping all 
round you, and bullets buzzing by like flies.’ 

‘ Well, so long as the bullets do buzz by, and the 
shells only fall round and not on me, I dare say it 
wdll add a little interest to what I must say is at 
present a very dirty, laborious, and monotonous job,’ 
grumbled Skinner. 

The trenches were generally dug in a large field 
some two miles from the camp, and a subaltern was 
often given a written order to proceed to such and 
such a spot, take so many men, and entrench them in 
a certain way, the time taken and the effectiveness of 
the shelter being considered by the field officers, and 
a lecture afterwards given upon the result. 

On the day after Skinner had treated his fellow- 
subs. to his views on trench-digging, Crawford was 
given written instructions, and at 6.30 A.M. on the 
following morning, a very fine one, marched his 
men off to the trench field. Duly arrived there, he 
fell out his men, and, calling over his sergeant, pro- 
duced his instructions. ‘ Now, Tompkins,’ he said, ‘ I 
want to-day to beat all previous records.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ said Tompkins. 

‘ Five hundred yards due east from reserve trench 


CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING. 


45 


B 4/ read Crawford from his paper. ‘Now this is 
B 4 at the end of which we are standing, I think, 
sergeant.’ i 

‘Yes, sir; there’s the marking post, B 4 reserve.’ 

‘Good! Now, “five hundred yards due east from 
reserve B 4, break ground, open trench exactly at 
right angles to B 4, and dig in on a front of twenty 
yards two feet deep. Afford men best cover possible, 
so as to enable them to offer the greatest resistance 
until assistance arrives.” Perfectly clear, I think, 
sergeant ? ’ 

‘Quite, sir.’ 

‘ The tape, then ; and tell the men to get tunics off* 
and tools ready for an immediate start. — Corporal 
Butt, hold the end of the tape, and stand exactly on 
this spot. — Sergeant, tell off* half-a-dozen men with 
marking-pegs.’ 

While this was being done Crawford took the 
exact bearing of east with his compass, and in a few 
minutes was measuring ofif the distance in hundreds 
of yards, a man driving in a peg to mark each 
hundred, and remaining standing on the spot. 

‘ Hallo ! ’ cried Crawford when the fourth man had 
been posted ; ‘ that ’s funny. We shall be bang against 
the wall there.’ 

Sergeant Tompkins had been thinking the same 
thing. 

Eight in front of them was the wall encircling the 
grounds of a very large house that fronted on the 
main road, which ran at right angles to one side of 
the field. Not much was known to the troops about 
the house except that it was named Tintagel, and 
that the present owner of the property was a retired 
naval officer. 


46 


CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING. 


Now the wall was a serious obstacle, and for a 
moment Crawford was puzzled. 

‘ Some mistake, sir,’ suggested the sergeant. 

‘ Perhaps so,’ agreed Crawford, taking out his type- 
written instructions; ‘let’s check.’ He carefully 
wiped and adjusted his glasses and re-read his 
instructions: ‘Five hundred yards due east from re- 
serve trench B 4. That ’s a “ 5,” I think, sergeant ? * 

‘Undoubtedly, sir.’ 

‘ And this is due east,’ looking at his compass. 

‘ Due east exactly.’ 

‘Now let’s re-measure the distance.’ 

This was done, and it exactly coincided with the 
first measurement. 

‘ Four hundred and eighty yards. Then our point 
is twenty yards the other side the wall.’ 

‘ Can’t be, sir ; can it ? ’ 

‘ Why not ? ’ 

‘ How are we going to get over the wall ? * 

Crawford looked pityingly at his sergeant. ‘ Call 
yourself a soldier,’ he said, ‘and ask how are we 
going to get over a wall ? Did you ever hear of 
Badajoz, of the Redan, of Delhi ?’ 

‘Well, this isn’t active service, sir. Seems more 
like a mistake to me.’ 

‘ Good heavens, sergeant, has it come to this, that 
non-commissioned officers are going to criticise the 
orders of their superiors just because they cannot 
understand them ? Do you see that this paper bears 
the Adjutant’s signature, and do you dare insinuate 
that he doesn’t know what he ’s doing ? What would 
the men of Marlborough’s or Wellington’s time have 
thought of such conduct ? The first duty of a soldier 
is obedience, sergeant — blind, unquestioning obedience ; 


CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING. 47 

and you Ve got to obey, and I Ve got to obey. Do 
you understand ? ’ 

‘ Quite, sir ; but what are you going to do ? ’ 

‘I’m going to open a trench twenty yards the 
other side that wall, and I ’m going to start at 
once. Now, you go and bring the platoon up 
here at the double, all excepting the men by the 
pegs.’ ^ 

While the sergeant was gone Crawford, remember- 
ing the lessons of the gymnasium, measured the 
height of the wall. His breast swelled with ardour 
at the idea of the Wessex Fusiliers storming it; and 
as the sergeant brought the men up at the double he 
was about to give the order, when it occurred to him 
that it might look infra dig. to be seen scrambling 
up over an eight-foot wall, and that there could not 
possibly be much glory in the enterprise. So he 
ordered his men to put on their caps and tunics, 
and shoulder the entrenching tools, and, forming 
them in fours, placed himself at their head. He 
had made up his mind boldly to demand an entrance 
to the estate; and so away they went alongside the 
wall, out on to the road, and up to the lodge gates. 
These were closed, but the subaltern boldly pulled 
the iron bell- handle, and, not being answered very 
quickly, gave the gate a good rattle. 

A short, red-faced man appeared, and stared round- 
eyed at the .khaki-clad figures standing outside the 
gate. He unlocked it, however, and, opening it, 
said a little doubtfully to Crawford, ‘ Morning, sir. 
You ’re an early caller, aren’t you ? ’ 

‘Sorry if I’ve disturbed you,’ replied Crawford 
coolly; ‘but I must march my men through the 
grounds.’ 


48 


CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING. 


‘ What ’s up ? ’ replied the lodgekeeper. ‘ Are the 
Germans here ? ’ 

‘No, not so bad as that,’ replied Crawford. ‘It is 
only a military necessity.’ 

‘ Military necessity, is it ? ’ said the lodgekeeper. ‘ I 
suppose you ’ve got the Admiral’s permission ? ’ 

‘ What Admiral ? ’ asked Crawford in surprise. 

‘ What Admiral ! ’ replied the lodgekeeper, getting 
very red in the face. ‘ What Admiral ! Why, the 
Admiral o’ course; the Admiral as owns this ’ere 
property, an’ who ain’t perticler fond o’ you sojer 
chaps; couldn’t abide the “Jollies” [Marines] even 
aboard his own vessel. So if you ain’t got permis- 
sion you ’d better look out for squalls.’ 

‘ My good fellow,’ replied Crawford, producing his 
orders, ‘ this is my permission, and this,’ pointing to 
his uniform, ‘ is my warrant. If I overstep my duty 
I am ready to answer to my commanding officer ; and 
if you or any one else attempts to hinder me in the 
execution of my duty, you will have to answer to my 
commanding officer also.’ 

The red-faced lodgekeeper stared a moment or two 
at Crawford, turned a quid in his mouth, and spat on 
a flower-bed. 

The little officer felt that he was wasting time ; 
and, turning to his men, he shouted in his best 
parade-ground voice, ‘ Squad — ’shun ! Quick march — 
left wheel ! ’ 

The lodgekeeper stepped forward and placed one 
hand on Crawford’s arm. ‘ I resists,’ he said. 

‘ Resist me at your peril,’ retorted Crawford 
haughtily ; ‘I’m on the King’s service, and you are 
breaking the law.’ 

Sergeant Tompkins, who was a big man, seeing his 


CRAWFORD GOES TRENCH-DIGGING. 


49 


little officer molested, doubled forward, for Crawford 
was a favourite with the men. ‘ Hands off ! ’ he 
cried, ‘ or you ’ll meet with an accident.’ 

resists,’ repeated the lodgekeeper sturdily; and 
then he was brushed aside by the advancing platoon. 
He watched them pass, and smiled darkly to himself ; 
then he followed them at a distance, saw Crawford 
lead his men straight to the far end of the grounds, 
mount the wall, and signalling over it, receive the 
end of a tape-measure in his hand. A certain dis- 
tance was measured, a little white peg stuck into the 
ground, right in the very middle of an asparagus-bed, 
and then the nonchalant Tommies, walking about 
among the asparagus, peeled off their tunics, rolled 
up their shirt-sleeves, and handled their spades and 
picks, while Crawford and the sergeant continued 
their measuring and pegging. 

Asparagus-growing was a great hobby with the 
Admiral, and the lodgekeeper stared aghast at the 
Tommies. ‘Bu’st me,’ he muttered, ‘if ever I see 
such a thing! Bloomin’ sojers, too! Well, if that 
young gent with the barnacles ain’t in for the time 
of his life I ’m not Dave Transom. I ’ll let ’em have 
time to get settled, and then — and then — you bog- 
trotting militiamen, we’ll see whether the Admiral 
approves of this ’ere diggin’. I ’ope none of yer ’ll 
find you ’ve been diggin’ yer own graves ; but if it 

do so happen, well’ And, spitting once more, 

David Transom, late petty officer in his Majesty’s 
Navy, rolled his way solemnly towards the house. 


O.H, 


D 


CHAPTER VIII. 


SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 

R ear-admiral sir Algernon blunt 

^ was a sailor more of the old school than of 
the new. Always possessed of ample means, it had 
been the love of the sea that had kept him in the 
navy, in which service he had risen to high distinc- 
tion. When the period of his last command expired, 
and he had to haul down his flag, he came back to 
his magnificent estate of Tintagel full of regrets at 
leaving the service he loved, with no enthusiasm for 
a life ashore, and with a sort of resentful feeling 
towards all landsmen, more especially towards sol- 
diers, whom he looked upon as being the most bigoted 
of all landsmen. He developed a grumpy manner 
and the gout, surrounded himself with old sailors, ran 
Tintagel on man-o’-war lines, mixed but little with 
the neighbouring gentry, and took no recreation 
except motoring. With the manner of a bear he 
combined the voice of a lion and the kindness of 
heart of a child. One of his favourite amusements 
was swimming, and he had constructed a very fine 
bath in the grounds. It was his custom to have an 
early morning swim, at which he was attended by his 
valet, an ex-navy steward. 

David Transom made his way to the bath with the 
idea of finding his master. The Admiral had, how- 
ever, finished his swim, and returned to the house. 
Thither David followed him, and in due time found 
the valet. ‘ Admiral about ? ’ he asked. 


SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 


51 


* Shaving! 

‘ I want a word with him.’ 

‘ You know his rule : all complaints and reports to 
be made to him in his cabin ’ — he called his smoking- 
room his cabin — ‘ at 9 a.m.’ 

‘ This is a special case.’ 

* I ’ll see what can be done.’ The valet disappeared, 
returning in a minute, saying, ‘ The Admiral will see 
you.’ 

David held his cap in the approved naval style, and 
stepped gingerly into the Admiral’s dressing-room. 

Sir Algernon Blunt was some six feet high, very 
stout, with a face the colour of beetroot, and snow- 
white beard and hair. He was busy at his toilet, 
and turned round fiercely on the diflSdent David, 
a hair -brush in each hand. ‘Hallo!’ he cried; 
‘ how ’s this ? What have you left your post for ? ’ 

‘ To make a report, Admiral.’ It is worthy of note 
that he would always be called Admiral, and not Sir 
Algernon. 

‘Get on with it, then, and don’t stand there 
mouthing like a Maltese monkey I ’ 

‘ I ’ve been assaulted. Admiral.’ 

‘ You ’ve been what ? ’ asked the Admiral. 

‘Assaulted, Admiral, by a sojer.’ 

‘A soldier!’ roared the Admiral. ‘You a sailor, 
and let a soldier assault you when you ’ve got a pair 
of fists of your own ! ’ 

‘ It wasn’t one, Admiral ; it was about fifty.’ 

The Admiral threw his brushes on the dressing- 
table, and made a step forward. ‘You gibbering 
lubber, what is the matter with you ? ’ he bellowed. 
‘What’s all this talk of soldiers? Where are they, 
and what are they doing ? ’ 


62 SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 

‘In the kitchen -garden, stamping about on the 
asparagus-beds,’ replied David slowly. 

The Admiral dropped into an arm-chair. ‘ In the 
what ? ’ he asked incredulously. 

David repeated his statement. 

The Admiral looked as though he could not credit 
his ears. ‘ Tell your tale out quickly, my -man,’ he 
said presently, ‘ or you ’ll find yourself in the bilboes ' 
(nautical = irons). 

David related what had happened. 

Hardly had he finished when the Admiral leapt to 
his feet. ‘ Fetch Mr Claud,’ he yelled. 

‘ The Colonel, Admiral ? ’ queried David. 

‘Mr Claud, I said!’ roared Sir William. ‘Don’t 
talk to me about colonels. Pipe all hands to quarters ! 
Clear the decks for action; issue small arms; warn 
a landing-party 1 ’ And David, not waiting to hear 
more, departed. 

The Admiral’s younger brother. Colonel Claud 
Blunt, was heir to the property, and, as he frequently 
did, was staying there. He was the direct opposite 
of his choleric brother in looks and manner ; but a 
real affection existed between them, and they agreed 
on most things except upon their professions, the 
Admiral loathing all things military, and only allud- 
ing to his brother by his military rank when he was 
in a very good temper; while the Colonel had a real 
detestation for the sea. 

While the Admiral was issuing his orders, Craw- 
ford was setting his men to work, and picks 
and shovels were just getting busy, when Sergeant 
Tompkins, looking up, cried out to his officer, ‘ Hallo, 
sir, what ’s this coming ? ’ 

Crawford peered up through his glasses, and saw 


SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 


63 


a number of men approaching. They were led by 
Sir Algernon in his shirt-sleeves, waving his arms and 
bellowing orders. Next to him came a slim figure in 
immaculate khaki, a monocle in his eye, and his 
hands in his pockets. Behind the two were about a 
dozen men, all old salts, some armed with sticks, and 
all wearing a very truculent look. 

‘ Bless me ! ’ exclaimed Crawford, ‘ whatever can 
be the matter ? ' 

The answer was supplied by the Admiral roar- 
ing out, ‘Avast there, you pirates! What are you 
doing V 

‘ I reckon we ’re trench-digging,’ grinned a Tommy, 
leaning on his spade, and looking in amusement at 
the irate Sir Algernon. 

‘Who’s in charge of you trespassing militiamen? 
Where’s your ofiicer, if that’s what you call the 
leader of such rascals ? ’ 

Crawford slowly buttoned up his tunic, adjusted 
his cap, and then, stepping in front of Sir Algernon, 
replied, ‘ I am in command of this platoon, sir, and if 
you have anything to say, will you kindly address 
your remarks to me ? ’ 

The Admiral glared down at the little officer. ‘ I 
have got something to say, and that to the point. 
I want to know what the deuce you ’re doing 
here.* 

‘ I ’m carrying out my orders.’ 

‘ Whose orders ? ’ bellowed the Admiral. ‘ I ’m the 
only one who gives orders here.* . 

‘Indeed!* replied Crawford coolly. ‘Well, I’m 
carrying out the orders of my commanding officer.’ 

‘And what the dickens do I care for your com- 
manding officer ? Do you think he has any power 


54 


SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 


to give you permission to trespass on my property, 
you four-eyed little toad ? ’ 

‘ I must caution you to speak more respectfully to 
one whose proud privilege it is to hold the King’s 
commission, or else I shall find a way to make you.* 

‘King’s commission, you little powder-monkey! 
Why, I held her Majesty’s commission before you 
were born.’ 

‘ Then I am surprised to hear you speak so. 
I always understood oflScer and gentleman were 
synonymous terms.’ 

‘Why, you rascal, you convict-clad hop-o’-my- 
thumb, I ’d throw you overboard as soon as look at 
you ! Call off these navvies, or soldiers, or whatever 
they are, or I ’ll clear you out with my men.’ 

‘ If you raise a finger against us you ’ll rue it. I 
warn you that you will be committing an offence 
under the Defence of the Realm Act.’ 

‘Defence of the fiddlestick Act! Your place is 
over in France, and that’s where you’d better go. 
Now, are you going to clear out ? ’ 

‘ I am not.’ 

‘Then over the wall with them, boys,’ cried the 
Admiral ; and he made a grab at Crawford. 

‘ Fix bayonets! Form company!’ shouted Crawford. 
‘ No ! Charge spades ! I mean.’ 

‘ Draw cutlasses ! Repel boarders ! ’ yelled the 
Admiral ; and, his men closing up, in a few moments 
a serious scuffle would have ensued had not the 
Admiral’s brother— who, hardly able to restrain his 
laughter, had listened to the two excited disputants 
— stepped in between the parties. 

‘ Hold I ’ he cried loudly, throwing up both his 
hands. 


SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 


55 


* Out of the way, Claud,’ yelled the Admiral ; ' an 
Englishman’s home is his castle. These fellows are 
trespassers, and I ’ll clear ’em out. — At ’em, boys ! ’ 

‘ Let no man move,’ continued the Colonel. — ' Drop 
those shovels,’ to the soldiers. — ‘ Allow me to get you 
an explanation. Sir Algernon,’ to his brother. — Then 
to Crawford, ‘ You see, sir, I am a colonel in his 
Majesty’s Army — Claud Blunt, Royal Engineers. I 
presume you have authority for your action ? ’ 

Crawford wrested himself free from the Admiral’s 
grasp, saluted, and, producing his instructions, said, 
‘ I have, sir. I am ordered to open a trench at the 
position here indicated. If you will have the good- 
ness to examine this paper you will perceive I am 
acting in accordance with my orders.’ 

Colonel Blunt returned the salute, read the paper, 
asked Crawford for his full instructions, how he had 
measured his distances, looked over the wall at the 
pegs, and said, ‘ It all seems in order. May I suggest 
that there is an error somewhere, perhaps, in the 
measurement ? Will you come with me and verify it? ’ 

‘If you will pardon me, I would rather remain 
with my men. I will send my sergeant if you like.’ 

‘ I checked the measurements ; they are quite right, 
sir,’ said the sergeant. 

‘ Then your instructions may contain some error.’ 

‘Possibly, sir,’ replied Crawford; ‘but, as you 
know, a soldier dare not question his instructions. 
He has only to carry them out.’ 

‘Quite true,’ agreed the Colonel gravely, though 
there was a twinkle in his eye. — ‘I see nothing for 
it, Sir Algernon, but to allow these men to continue 
their work.’ 

‘ Continue their work ? ’ cried the Admiral. ‘ The 


56 


SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 


first man that sticks another pick in the ground I ’ll 
throw over that wall.’ 

‘ It ’s a serious business in these times interfering 
with soldiers while in the execution of their duty,’ 
said his brother. 

‘ Duty be hanged ! Do you think it ’s their duty 
to spoil my asparagus ? Claud, you ’re a fool, and I ’ll 
have no more palaver. — Now,’ to Crawford, ‘ are you 
going ? ’ 

‘ I am not.’ 

‘ Then look out ; ’ and the Admiral turned to his 
men to order them to ‘carry on,’ when the Colonel 
again interposed. 

‘ We seem to have arrived at an impasse* he said 
to Crawford; ‘but I think I see a way out of it. 
Will you come with me to your commanding officer 
and lay the matter before him ? ’ 

‘ I cannot leave my men, sir.’ 

‘ But you will subject your men to violence if you 
do not.’ 

Crawford looked at the Colonel in surprise. 

‘ British soldiers hardly consider that, sir, when 
their duty lies clear.’ 

‘True,’ replied the Colonel, biting his lip; ‘but 
come, as your superior officer I must order you to 
submit this to your C.O. I am sure a mistake has 
been made.’ 

‘Very well, then, I will go if this — this gentle- 
man ’ and he nodded towards the Admiral. 

‘ My brother, Admiral Sir Algernon Blunt.’ 

‘ Oh — h,’ said Crawford, a little taken aback. 
‘Well, he will have to go with me as my prisoner.’ 

‘ What ? ’ roared the Admiral. ‘ What — your what? ’ 

‘ My prisoner,’ replied Crawford coolly. ‘ You have 


SOLDIERS VERSUS SAILORS. 


67 


obstructed me in the execution of my duty ; you 
have insulted me, and laid hands on me. I would 
place you under arrest if you were the Lord High 
Admiral himself.’ 

Sir Algernon looked aghast at Crawford’s assurance. 

Before the Admiral could say anything, the Colonel 
came to the rescue. ' I see a way of settling this,’ he 
said. ‘ If you will send your sergeant with me, I will 
go to your commanding officer and hear what he 
says.’ 

‘I agree to that on condition that Sir Algernon 
promises not to interfere with us until you return.’ 

‘ He will do that,’ said the Colonel hastily, ‘ on 
condition that you suspend work for that period.’ 

‘ I will give you one hour,’ said Crawford, looking 
at his watch. ‘ If you haven’t returned by that time, 
I ’ll continue my work even if Sir Algernon brings 
up a field battery to back up his men.’ 

‘I’ll run over in my brother’s motor,’ said the 
Colonel. ‘ Will you tell your sergeant to accompany 
me ? — Come, Algernon, we ’ll go together ; a spin will 
do you good;’ and, taking his brother by the arm, 
he led him away, and the Admiral’s men followed. 

‘ Rest easy, men,’ said Crawford as they disappeared. 

‘ You may put on your tunics and light your pipes ; 
but let no one move from the spot until we hear 
from our own commanding officer.’ 


CHAPTER IX. 


CHEERY DICK CRITICISES. 


RAWFORD and his men had not very long to 



wait. Before the hour was up the sound of a 
motor-car was heard, and five minutes later Colonel 
Hastings, with Sir Algernon and his brother, came 
striding through the grounds. Crawford had his men 
standing at attention before the Colonel approached 
him, and, on being called to his commanding ofiicer, 
saluted and waited to be addressed. 

‘ Mr Crawford,’ said Colonel Hastings, * I am afraid 
an error has been made. It was certainly not 
intended to encroach upon Sir Algernon Blunt’s 
property. Let me see your orders.’ 

Crawford handed them over. 

The Colonel read them. ‘ Yes,’ he said, ‘ I have 
the adjutant’s original draft in my pocket. The 
orderly-room sergeant in typing it out put a 5 
instead of a 3. The distance should have read “ three 
hundred yards.” ’ 

‘ I am sorry, sir.’ 

*No blame attaches to you, Mr Crawford. You 
have carried out your orders to the letter. Perhaps ’ 
— and here there was the slightest suspicion of a 
smile upon the Colonel’s lips — ‘ this was a case where 
a reference to your commanding officer might have 
saved us all some trouble.’ 

‘ I should have done so had I thought I was doing 
right, sir. But on page 145 of the Soldiers Pocket- 


CHEERY DICK CRITICISES. 


59 


Book it is distinctly laid down that an officer should 
implicitly obey his orders.’ 

‘ That is so, though I rather fancy it says an officer 
is to act “ intelligently ” upon the order. However, 
we must no longer intrude. We can only offer 
Sir Algernon our apologies, and retire.’ 

‘ I regret. Sir Algernon,’ said Crawford, stepping 
up to the Admiral, * that I have intruded here. I read 
my orders so, and was bound to carry them out.’ 

' And as an officer of the Senior Service, you know, 
Algernon,’ said Colonel Blunt to his brother, ‘that 
the unquestioning obedience to an order is what has 
made British sailors and soldiers what they are.’ 

The tactful reference of Colonel Blunt to the Senior 
Service clearly pleased the Admiral. ‘ Tut, tut ! ’ he 
said, ‘the affair is all over; say no more about it. 
And, da — bless my eyes, sir,’ to Crawford, ‘ you ’re 
a plucky beggar! I used hard words to you just 
now which I did not mean. I ’m a hot-tempered old 
fool, and I ’m sorry.’ 

‘ Don’t mention it, sir,’ said Crawford. 

‘Nay, lad, shake hands, and forgive the hasty 
words of an old sea-dog. You ought to have gone 
into the navy. You ’d have made a fine sailor, and 
I’m sure the Germans — rotten sailors they always 
were — will get all they want from you when you 
cross the water;’ and he gripped Crawford’s hand 
in a way that brought tears into the subaltern’s eyes. 

When Sir Algernon said that a man would make 
a good sailor he was paying him the highest com- 
pliment in his power, and Colonel Blunt knew by 
his words that his brother was in a good temper. 
‘Well, let’s retire inside “and splice the mainbrace,” 
as my brother would say,’ he exclaimed. 


60 


CHEERY DICK CRITICISES. 


‘March your men off, and continue your work, 
reading three hundred for five hundred,’ said Colonel 
Hastings to Crawford. 

Then, as the three seniors went towards the house, 
Crawford, in his most sonorous voice, shouted, ‘ Right 
dress ! form fours — left ! By your left — quick march ! 
Right wheel!’ and, placing himself in front of his 
men, with head erect he led them ofi*, looking straight 
to his front, and taking no notice of the grinning 
David as he passed through the gates. 

An account of the affair soon spread through the 
camp, and all but the unfortunate clerk who had 
made the mistake in typing enjoyed the joke. . 

Cheery Dick freely gave Oliver and Vivian his 
views that afternoon when they returned from 
parade. ‘Nice show up for the reg’ment that ’ere 
Mr Crawford ’ave given us,’ he growled, as he 
polished up a boot. 

‘ Don’t make personal remarks. Rock,’ said Vivian. 

‘ I don’t call that personal,’ persisted Rock ; ‘ it ’s 
reg’mental. A buttin’ in an’ givin’ lip to a’ 
Admiral ! Any fool ’u’d a known ’e ’adn’t got ter go 
trespassin’. This turnin’ sojers into navvies is bad 
enough in the open ; but to go a-tearin’ up gentlemen’s 
gardens — pooh 1 it ’s sheer madness. If Mr Crawford 
'ad a been in my old corps ’e ’d a got the tip to send 
in 'is papers, a ’oldin’ o’ us up to ridicule.’ 

‘ Be quiet. Rock,’ said Oliver. 

‘Cert’inly, sir; but we ain’t ever a-goin’ to beat 
them ’Uns by diggin’ ’oles in the earth; that’s my 
view. This muckin’ about trenchin’ an’ sappin”ll 
only drag out the war. Look what it done at 
Sebastopol. Kept the army ’angin’ about through a 
whole winter, an’ got ’em starved to death, instead 


CHEERY DICK CRITICISES. 


61 


o* marchin’ straight in an’ chuckin’ the Kooshians 
out Mark me, that’s what’ll happen in France. 
Such rot ! ’ 

‘ You ’d better tell the Commander-in-Chief so.’ 

‘ An’ ’e might do worse than take an old sojer’s 
advice. Bobs ’as arst my opinion more ’n once. I 
reckon I ’ad as much to do with the success o’ the 
march from Cabul to Candy’ar as any one.’ 

‘ Indeed ! How was that ? ’ asked Oliver. 

*Why, I remember one night we was dead-beat. 
There was ours an’ the Rifles an’ the Third Gurks, 
little black ugly demons they was, but good fighters. 
We was five mile short o’ the day’s march, an’ all 
done-up. I was sentry on* Bobs’s tent, an’ I was 
leanin’ on my rifle, when the General comes up an’ 
nods to me in a friendly way. I sees he looks very 
down, so I arsts ’im what ’s the matter. “ Can’t get 
the men along fast enough. Rock,” he says. “At 
this rate- we ’ll never get to Candy’ar in time.” 

. * “ I can tell you ’ow to get another flve mile a day 
out o’ ’em. Sir Frederick,” I says. 

* “ ’Ow, Rock — ’ow ? ” ’e answers. 

‘ “ Give ’em more rum,” I says. 

‘ “ It ’s a ’orrible idea. Rock,” says ’e. “ I can’t 

a- bear the thought o’ a’ army what drinks.” 

‘“Well,” says I solemnly, “then we shall be too 
late. It ’s the only chance.” 

‘ The General walks up an’ down a bit, with his 
’ands behind ’im ; then ’e says suddenly, “ I ’ll think 
of it. Rock — I ’ll think of it.” An’ sure enough next 
day, when the men shows signs that they can’t 
march no farther, Bobs -’alts the column, an’ serves 
out a good tot o’ rum all round, an’ we does another 
seven mile. An’ so it was, when we got tired, out 


62 


CHEERY DICK CRITICISES. 


came the rum, an’ that 's what got us to Candy’ar. 
If we’d ha ’ad more rum we’d ha’ done it in less 
time ; which reminds me as talkin’ is dry work, 
an’ ’ 

‘ Get out, you old scoundrel ! ’ cried Vivian ; ‘ and if 
ever I see you the worse for drink I ’ll put you under 
arrest that very minute.’ 

‘The worse for drink, after twenty-three years in 
the Fightin’ Fifth ! I don’t think that ’s very likely 
to ’appen.’ And Rock solemnly departed. 


'chapter X. 


THE ROUTE ARRIVES. 

O F course, Crawford got severely chaffed about 
his exploit, Skinner being one of the loudest 
in his remarks. Harris and Crawford afterwards 
read the matter up in the latest military text- 
books, and convinced themselves that Crawford was 
perfectly right. 

A night or two later Colonel Blunt dined with the 
officers of the Wessex, and after the loyal toasts 
proposed the health of Crawford, saying that any one 
who had the pluck to stand up to the Admiral when 
he was really cross had certainly nothing to fear 
from the Germans. 

Then came an invitation from the Admiral for the 
officers and sergeants of the Wessex to spend a day 
at Tintagel, where sports and a big feed were to be 
arranged. The Colonel and the Adjutant, strict 
soldiers whose only thoughts were to get the regi- 
ment fit for service, were much against the idea. 
‘ A whole day wasted ! ’ said the Colonel. ‘ We can’t 
afford it.’ 

But the juniors to a man were much in favour 
of going; and, as the chief did not want to appear 
grumpy, he said he would think it over. Eventually 
he gave a rather grudging consent. 

Skinner was particularly delighted. * Jolly decent, 
I call it,’ he said to Oliver ; ‘ though I think the chief 
ought to have accepted at once. We shan’t get 


64 


THE ROUTE ARRIVES. 


much chance of a day’s spree when we re across the 
water, I expect, and we ought to make the most of 
our chances here. Goodness knows how many of us 
will ever come back, and so I say take all the enjoy- 
ment you can now. I mean to have a jolly good 
day!’ 

‘You might be orderly officer the day we go,’ 
suggested Oliver. 

‘ I say, old man, chuck it ! I never knew such a 
fellow as you for making unpleasant suggestions.’ 

‘Well,’ grinned Oliver, ‘I’m only throwing out a 
possibility ; you know there ’s many a slip, &c.’ 

‘ The “ General ” would take my duty in a minute,’ 
said Skinner ; ‘ he ’s a glutton for work.’ 

‘He’ll find the benefit when we get into the 
trenches.’ 

‘Well, he’s welcome,’ said Skinner, lighting a 
cigarette. ‘ I ’ve made up my mind to have a jcrlly 
spree ; ’ and he walked off. 

There was a great deal of such talk amongst the 
subalterns, for they had had nothing but hard work 
for a good many weeks. 

It was on Wednesday, the outing having been 
fixed for Friday, when the Colonel, his face all 
smiles, said at mess that he had a piece of good news 
to impart. Faces brightened, and some thoughts 
turned to the anticipated day at Tintagel; but the 
Colonel said, ‘ Gentlemen, I have just received a very 
gratifying letter fropa the War Office. Our inspec- 
tion last Monday was so satisfactory that it has been 
decided to send us to the front at once. To-morrow 
I forward to the War Office the names of all those 
who are fit for service, and on Saturday morning we 
start.’ 


THE llOUTE ARRIVES. 


65 


A spontaneous cheer, that made the men wonder 
what on earth had aroused the officers’ enthusiasm, 
broke out ; and when it had died down Oliver 
whispered to Skinner, ‘Your day at the Admiral’s 
will be spoilt after all, old man.’ 

‘ Hang the Admiral ! ’ replied Skinner valiantly. 

‘ We shall be thinking of other things then, I ’ll bet.’ 

From that moment all was excitement, getting 
service kit together, procuring the things necessary 
for the campaign, giving away or sending home 
useless things, and writing farewell letters to friends. 
No leave was to be granted, which many thought 
very hard; but really it was a kindness, for that 
saying good-bye to loved ones left behind is the 
hardest thing in the soldier’s life. A good many 
came down to camp, but the farewells there had to be 
cut short. The young soldiers Under nineteen were 
to be left at home to form the nucleus of a home 
battalion; and a good few others failed to pass the 
doctor. The elderly ones also were to be left behind, 
only the really fit being taken. 

Vivian and Oliver were sitting in their tent on the 
Friday morning, \vriting a few farewell notes, when 
Cheery Dick, their servant, burst in unceremoniously. 
‘I say, gentlemen,’ he began, ‘there’s goin’ to be 
trouble in this ’ere battalion. I want to see the 
Colonel at once. Will one o’ you please go with 
me?’ 

‘ Now then, you old rascal, what do you mean by 
bursting in like that ? What ’s the matter ? ’ 

‘ Mutiny ’s the matter, sir ; rank mutiny ! ’ 

‘ What do you mean ? ’ 

‘Why, the bloomin’ sergeant-major, dash ’is 
impidence ! ’as just told me I ain’t a-goin’ out with 
O.H. E 


66 


THE ROUTE ARRIVES. 


the reg’ment. “ Too old/* ’e says, an’ me with 
twenty-three to my credit in the Fightin’ Fifth. 
What ’s the reg’ment goin’ to do without me ? I arsts.’ 

‘ Not going out ! ’ said Oliver with some regret, for 
he had taken a fancy to the eccentric old soldier. 

‘So that fat-’ead said, beggin’ your pardon. But 
I want to see the Colonel. I ’ll fight it out with ’im.’ 

‘ I ’ll speak to him about it,’ said Oliver soothingly. 
‘You are a bit old, though, you know.* 

‘ Thirty-eight,’ said Rock unblushingly ; ‘ my attes- 
tation paper shows that.* 

‘ H’m ! sometimes figures are put down incorrectly,* 
Vivian said, alluding to Crawford’s celebrated trench- 
digging. 

• ‘ Well, sir, by the rules o’ the service you know it’s 

my right to see my commandin’ oflScer if I feel 
myself aggrieved, an* *ere I do ; an’ as my company 
officer I make a request that you ’ll take me to ’im.* 

‘ If you persist I will ; but I tell you now that if 
the Colonel has decided that you are to stay at home, 
stay you must.* 

‘ I ’ll ’ear ’im say so with my own ears/ said Rock. 

Some ten minutes later Vivian and Oliver accom- 
panied him into the orderly-room, where the Colonel 
and the Adjutant were busy. Vivian, according 
to regulations, said Private Rock felt himself 
aggrieved, and wished to make a complaint. 

‘Well, my man/ said Colonel Hastings, ‘what’s the 
matter ? Put it in few words, as I have no time to 
spare.* 

‘ It *s about this ’ere news that I ’m to stop behind. 
Colonel/ said Cheery Dick. 

‘ H’m — ha ! yes/ said the Colonel. ‘ You ’re over age 
unfortunately. I *m sorry, but it can’t be helped.* 


THE ROUTE ARRIVES. 


67 


‘ I *m thirty- eight, Colonel.’ 

‘Nonsense, Rock ! How many years did you serve 
in the army ? ’ 

‘ Twenty-three, sir.’ 

‘And you took your discharge ten years ago; 
that ’s thirty-three, you know.’ 

‘ I was born in the old Fifth, Colonel, an’ I joined 
the drums almost as soon as I could toddle.’ 

‘ That won’t do. Rock.’ 

‘Well, anyway, I’m attested here as thirty-eight, 
sir.’ 

‘ You know the penalty for false attestation.’ 

‘ Look ’ere. Colonel, sir,’ said Rock pleadingly ; ‘ look 
’ere at these,’ and he pointed to his medal-ribbons. 
‘ I arst you, sir, whether you don’t think I ’ve earned 
the right to fight for my country. Good Gawd, ’as it 
come to this, that Dick Rock ain’t no more good ? 
What does it matter whether I’m thirty-eight or 
fifty-eight in years ? In ’eart I ’m a boy, an’ I ’ll 
march or shoot agen any man in the reg’ment, that 
I swear.’ 

‘ But the regulations. Rock ? ’ 

‘ Regulations is broken every day, sir. Good Lord, 
do you think, with twenty-three years in the finest 
reg’ment that ever saluted the colours, sir, I joined 
this crowd, an’ put up with the snobbishness o’ a lot 
o’ upstart non-coms., an’ learned a lot o’ rotten new 
drill — a standin’ at ease with my arms behind my 
back like a whipped schoolboy, a dressin’ in line by 
shufflin’ backwards an’ forwards as if I ’ad ’ot cinders 
in my boots, a fixin’ baynits with my left ’and like a 
wooden-’eaded sepoy — to stop at ’ome ’ere an’ amuse 
servant-gals? No, sir; my country wants me, an’ if 
you don’t take me I ’J1 But no, sir, I knows my 


68 


THE ROUTE ARRIVES. 


duty, an’ I ain’t goin’ to forget myself by sayin’ what 
I didn’t oughter.’ 

The Colonel turned, whispered to the Adjutant, and 
then said, ‘I’m sorry. Rock, but my hands are tied. 
I appreciate your feelings as an old soldier, and I ’ll 
use my influence with the War Office to get you sent 
out with the flrst draft.’ And he shook Rock by the 
hand. 

‘ Thank ye. Colonel,’ said Rock, and, seeing he was 
dismissed, he saluted, turned about, and gave Oliver a 
prodigious wink as he passed him. 

‘ The regulation is a stupid one, I admit,’ said the 
Colonel when Rock had gone. ‘ Such a man in a 
tight corner is invaluable; but I’m afraid I can do 
nothing.’ 

‘ We might make a special application for him, sir,* 
said the Adjutant. ‘ He is a useful man.’ 

‘Very well, we will. — Now, boys,’ to Oliver and 
Vivian, ‘be off, and see that your servant doesn’t 
get paying too many visits to the canteen before 
we go.’ 

‘If Master Rock makes up his mind to celebrate 
the occasion,’ said Vivian, as they went towards their 
tent, ‘ I don’t think we shall be able to stop him.’ 

‘ I ’m afraid not,’ admitted Oliver. ‘ I believe he ’s 
got some scheme in his wily old brain, though. He 
winked broadly at me when the Colonel had done 
speaking to him.’ 

‘He’s really past a joke. If we weren’t going on 
service we should have to pull him up a bit.’ 

‘ Well, we shall probably lose sight of him for a 
few weeks anyhow, though I expect he ’ll make 
himself a nuisance to those left behind.’ 

The Colonel went off that day to the port of 


THE KOUTE ARRIVES. 


69 


embarkation to see that all was ready for the 
regiment when it arrived. The men were to march 
from camp at six-thirty next morning, without any 
fuss or noise, entrain at the station, and get away as 
quietly as possible, according to instructions received 
from London. 

‘ Steal off, if you may say so, like a lot o* convicts,* 
said Rock to one or two cronies that night. ‘ Time 
was when sojers goin’ on active service was played 
to the station by bands an’ cheered on the way. I 
suppose the bloomin’ ’Uns livin’ in England wouldn’t 
like it if we was to give the men a ’earty send off 
nowadays ; mustn’t ’urt their feelins, oh dear no, 
poor things ! Bah — makes me sick ! ’ 

Soon after five next morning Cheery Dick aroused 
his two masters. ‘Now then, gents, time to turn 
out,’ he said. ‘ It ’s an ’orrible mornin’, drizzlin’ with 
rain an’ very depressin’, an’ the men ’ll most likely 
be a bit out o’ ’and. You’ve got a rough day before 
you, a long ride in a stuffy train, fuss o’ gettin’ em- 
barked, more ’n likely seasick crossin’, an’ no end o’ 
muckin’ about the other side. I know what it is; 
I Ve been through it all a good many times.’ 

‘Go away, you dismal brute,’ cried Vivian, ‘and 
get our tub ready sharp.’ 

‘ Why, you ain’t a-goin’ to bath the day you march 
out, surely ? ’ said Rock. 

‘ We are.’ 

‘ Waste o’ time I calls it. You ’ll be black enough 
by to-morrow.’ 

‘ Anyway, we shall have seen the back of you.’ 

‘ There ’s ongratef ulness ! ’ said Rock sadly, as he 
went off; but the grin on his face belied his words. 

In due course the men breakfasted, the regiment 


70 


THE ROUTE ARRIVES. 


paraded and marched off. It had been given out that 
there was to be no demonstration by the other troops 
in camp, and everything was quiet till, outside the 
camp, in the road which led to the station, the mar- 
tial strains of a military band suddenly broke out. 

‘ The Girl I left behind Me/ the old-time marching- 
out tune, fell on the men’s ears, and, delighted, they 
took up the air and sang with all their might. 

Oliver and Vivian, marching with the leading 
company, looked askance at one another. 

‘Funny!’ said Vivian. ‘I thought we were to go 
quietly to the station.’ 

‘ It ’s jolly, though, marching to a band. Who are 
they ? Can you see ? ’ 

‘ They ’re in khaki ; that ’s all I can see.’ 

Meanwhile the band roused the echoes, and from 
‘The Girl I left behind Me’ went on to ‘Annie 
Laurie.’ The Adjutant came cantering up to the head 
of the column, and, reining in beside Vivian, said, ‘I 
can’t make this out, Mr Drummond. The Colonel told 
me we were to move off quietly.’ 

‘ So I understood, sir.’ 

‘It’s the band of the Somersets from the camp. 
Just go along and ask the bandmaster how it is 
they ’re playing us out.’ 

Vivian ran forward, and presently returned, saying 
Colonel Hastings had sent the bandmaster word on 
the previous day to meet the regiment outside the 
camp, and play them to the station. 

‘Strange he didn’t mention it to me,’ said the 
Adjutant ; and on they marched. The drums and fifes 
relieved the brass band, and the men swung along to' 
the tune of ‘The British Grenadiers.’ The people 
turned out in the villages they passed through, and 


THE ROUTE ARRIVES. 


71 


cheered lustily, many falling in beside the soldiers 
and accompanying them to the station. As the men 
were entrained the band formed on the platform 
and played a selection of national airs, which the 
onlookers sang. Oliver, who was close to the band, 
thanked the bandmaster for his services, and said it 
would cheer the men up, adding that it was a most 
pleasant surprise. 

‘So it was to me, sir,’ said the bandmaster. ‘Your 
Colonel’s servant said it was to be a surprise to you, 
and he particularly specified the tunes we were to 
play.’ 

‘ Quite the right old sort.’ 

‘Just so; nothing like the old tunes to rouse up the 
boys. By the way, that servant of your Colonel is 
a fine old soldier. Seen some service.’ 

‘ Has he ? Why, I didn’t know he ’d seen any.’ 

‘Well, the man who came over to me last night 
had a double row of medal-ribbons. Lord Roberts’s 
star amongst them. He ’s an old Regular.’ 

‘ Roberts’s star ! ’ said Oliver, a light dawning upon 
him. ‘ Was he a middle-aged man, with a very stiff 
bearing and a sort of wooden countenance ? ’ 

‘ That ’s him ; a regular old barrack-room Tommy ; 
scattered his “ h’s ” in an extraordinary fashion.’ 

‘ Good heavens ! ’ thought Oliver, ‘ this is that old 
villain Rock’s doing. It’s lucky for him the pater 
is not here.’ He did not think it wise to say anything 
to the bandmaster, however, and, the men having 
entrained, he shook hands and entered his carriage, 
the band striking up ‘ Auld Lang Syne,’ and the 
onlookers cheering lustily as the train drew out of 
the station. 

Oliver told Vivian of his suspicions, and the latter 


72 


THE EOUTE ARRIVES. 


was quite of opinion that the band was entirely 
Rock’s arrangement. 

‘That was his farewell shot/ said Vivian. ‘We’d 
better not mention our suspicions to any one else; 
but, thank goodness ! we’ve seen the last of him. 
He ’ll never have the effrontery to face the chief after 
this ; ’ and they seated themselves comfortably for the 
journey. 


CHAPTER XI. 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS HEADY. 

RAMP ! tramp ! Scrunch ! scrunch ! A regi- 



i * ment of khaki-clad men are plodding, along a 
country road ‘somewhere in France.’ Clouds of 
dust are churned up by the hundreds of pairs of feet ; 
the men, marching, at ease, have their caps on the 
back of their heads, tunics are unbuttoned, rifles are 
carried butt upwards or slung on the shoulder, while 
the bronzed faces wear that strained look caused by 
pushing the power of endurance to the last limit. 

It is a sultry day, and the Wessex Fusiliers have 
had a twenty-mile march, ‘all on,’ as Tommy calls 
heavy marching order. 

A month has elapsed since that day when they 
swung out of camp in England to the tune of ‘ The 
Girl I left behind Me.’ The Channel was crossed 
without accident, and three weeks at Rouen fol- 
lowed. Then by road and rail they have been 
passed forward until at last they are only a few miles 
behind the firing-lme, that bulwark that holds the 
Hun at bay. 

All around them are the grim realities that 
show Europe is at war. Ruined cottages, battered 
churches, deserted farms, neglected orchards, an occa- 
sional broken-down transport wagon, or the fester- 
ing remains of a horse, are among the sights; the 
sullen booming of the British heavy guns among the 
sounds. 


74 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 


Crawford, anxious to know what war really looks 
like, stares about him with interest as he plugs 
steadily forward; Oliver and ViviaU, equally tired, 
recognise the to them familiar sights, and ‘ realise 
that at last they are back at the front. The dust is 
choking, and the men look regretfully at their long- 
empty water-bottles, feeling they would give a 
week’s pay for a pint of clear cold water. 

Some of the plucky ones whistle as they march, 
and one Tommy performs manfully on a mouth-organ. 
Every man is there ‘ to do his bit,’ and not a sullen 
face could be found in all that long array. All are 
perfectly cheerful, though it is realised that the job 
they are out for is no picnic. The old anxious look 
of the men in the first stages of the war is gone. The 
might of Germany has been realised ; she can spring 
no more surprises on the Allies ; she is known as a 
formidable and relentless enemy, a treacherous and 
cruel foe. The Teuton snake has been scotched, but 
yet remains to be killed, and many a gallant lad 
must bite the dust before that can be accomplished. 
The facts are realised, looked resolutely in the face, 
and tackled with calm and cheerful determination. 
That is the spirit of the new army. 

‘Seems as if we’d never left these surroundings, 
now we ’re back again,’ said Oliver to Vivian, as they 
passed some battered, roofless houses. 

‘ Yes, they ’re grim reminders, certainly,’ answered 
Vivian. ‘But the men seem to take it all coolly 
enough, though to them they must come with some- 
thing of a shock.’ 

While they were talking an orderly came trotting 
down the road towards them, and delivered a note to 
the Colonel. Reading it, he turned to the regiment. 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 75 

‘Another half-mile, boys, and we reach our billets. 
Pull yourselves together, and show the old soldiers 
that Territorials can march with the best.’ 

Tunics were buttoned, rifles sloped, and in less than 
a quarter of an hour the regiment marched into a 
partly ruined town which was for the present to be 
its headquarters. 

The men were billeted in several large barns and 
the remains of a church, the oflScers being accommo- 
dated in some of the least damaged houses. 

A sergeant of the Army Service Corps approached 
a group of subalterns, and asked whether Lieutenant 
Drummond was amongst them. 

‘ Yes ; I am he,’ replied Vivian. 

‘Oh, that house right over there, the last one 
before you get to the ploughed field, is your billet, 
sir. Your man has got supper ready.’ 

‘ My man ? * queried Vivian. ‘ I haven’t got one. 
I ’ve been sharing a servant with several others, and 
the lad has only just marched in with us. He’s 
certainly had no time to get supper, and I expect he 
wants a feed as badly as we do.’ 

‘Well, that’s what the man said,’ added the 
sergeant ; ‘ and, in any case,' that is your billet, sir.’ 

The regimental transport having got in an hour or 
so before the regiment, rations were issued at once ; 
and the men, stripping off their packs, set about 
cooking them immediately. 

‘We may as well be getting over to our show, 
Vivian,’ said Oliver ; ‘ a wash would do me good.’ 

‘And so say all of us,’ cried Harris. And with 
Crawford and Skinner they made for their billet. 

They noticed that the house, though part of the 
roof had been blown off, was one of the best left 


76 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 


standing, and when they trooped in there was an air 
of comfort about the place. They threw their haver- 
sacks, coats, and belts into one corner, and then went 
off in search of the means of washing. 

‘ Out at the back is the usual place in this kind of 
house,’ said Oliver ; and they went down the narrow 
passage. 

A most appetising smell of cooking tickled their 
noses, and Skinner said, * By Jove ! that smell cheers 
me up. I’m so ravenous, I could eat a pound of 
the dad’s celebrated sausages.’ 

‘There’s certainly some one cooking here,’ said 
Vivian. ‘ Listen ; he ’s singing.* 

All paused for a moment, and a hoarse voice was 
heard singing, or rather croaking, the following 
words : 

‘ Bu’st the bugle, blow the drum, 

Show us the way the enemy come ; 

Right— left, left — right. 

Oh, it wouldn’t be right to be left to fight. 

Bu’st the bugle, blow the drum, 

I hn sick of the sound of its tan-ta-rum ; 

While the bang of a musket in my ear 
Is too much for the runaway Fusilier.’ 

‘ I seem to recognise that voice,' said Vivian. 

‘ Surely it can’t be that old rascal Rock ? ’ queried 
Oliver. 

‘ Hallo, who ’s takin’ my name in vain ? ’ answered 
the singer; and next moment Cheery Dick, spick 
and span, a large towel round his waist for an apron, 
stepped from the kitchen. ‘Good-evenin’, gents,’ he 
said. ‘ You ’ve come at last ; but everything is spoilt 
by bein’ kept waitin’. Good witals burnt an’ good 
drink evaporated. If you ’d ha’ been in the Fightin’ 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 77 

Fifth you’d ha’ stepped it out a bit more smarter, 
believe me. But there, there ain’t no sojers now, 
only flannel-chested mollycoddles.’ 

‘ How the dickens did you get here ? ’ asked Vivian 
sternly. 

‘ I got across in a boat, trained it to a place with 
a name no Christian could pronounce, and got up 
here in - a transport wagon, all accordin’ to reg’la- 
shuns. And now if you wants a wash, come this 
way.’ 

Oliver gave Vivian a warning look, and he said no 
more just then, as it was perhaps just as well for 
Rock not to say too much before so many. 

As the five went out to the great tub in the 
garden. Rock said, ‘ Surely all these gentlemen ain’t 
in mess ’ere, are they ? ’ 

‘ Every one,’ replied Oliver. 

* What ! all a piggin’ in together ? Well, it wouldn’t 
ha’ done for the old Fightin’ Fifth. Orficers was 
gentlemen then; but I suppose that’s altered now, 
like everything else.’ 

‘ Now, you run off. Rock,’ said Vivian, ‘ and get on 
the table whatever there is for supper.’ 

Presently the subs, were seated round the table in 
what Rock called the mess-room, and he proceeded to 
bring in the food, grumbling as he placed every dish 
on the table. First came some soup. ‘Would ha’ 
bin plenty for three,’ grumbled Cheery Dick ; ‘ but 
when it comes to five — well, I ’ad to water it down, 
that ’s all ; ’ and he banged it on the table. 

Whether he had watered it or not, it was very 
excellent soup ; and the roasted rabbit, which he said 
might have been an old tom-cat for all he knew, and 
the couple of chickens were done to a turn, though 


78 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 


Rock declared they were spoilt. He had vegetables 
and bread, and two bottles of good claret. 

‘ You must make the most of ’em,’ said Rock. ' I 
provided for two, an’ if you plumps three more on 
me some one ’s got to go short.’ 

‘Well, I’m a teetotaler, Rock, so there are only 
four,’ said Crawford. 

‘ A tee What, sir ? ’ asked the old soldier. 

‘Teetotaler ! Water-drinker, if you like.’ 

‘ Good Lord,’ groaned Rock ; ‘ an’ ’im a’ orficer ! ’ 

Lastly, Rock placed cigars on the table, at which 
Vivian said, ‘ I say, where on earth did you raise all 
these things ? ’ 

‘ Oh, over there ; ’ and Rock nodded his head, and 
jerked his thumb back over his left shoulder. 

‘ But where ’s that ? ’ persisted Vivian. 

‘ Over at the staminy.’ 

*The what ?’ 

‘ The pub, sir.’ 

‘ Oh, the estaminet ! I see. But these things must 
have cost a lot of money. You can’t get them, given 
to you.’ 

‘ Oh, don’t bother about that ! I paid for ’em, an* 
you ’ll pay again ; never fear.’ 

‘ Of all the surly old dogs ! ’ laughed Skinner. 
‘ Upon my word, I don’t know how you fellows put 
up with him.’ 

‘He’s got us a jolly good feed, anyway,’ said 
Oliver. 

‘ To which we ’ve done ample justice,’ added 
Crawford; ‘and as a soldier who’s seen much ser- 
vice, Rock has my respect.’ 

After the fatigue of the day all were tired, and 
they were thinking of turning in, when an orderly 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 


79 


came and said the Adjutant wanted to see Mr Hastings 
and Mr Drummond. It was only on some regimental 
matter, and in an hour they were back again. Their 
comrades had, however, turned in. 

Rock, hearing Oliver and Vivian return, came into 
the room and said their sleeping-place was above, 
and that he had made all things snug. 

‘ Ah ! that reminds me you haven’t told us yet how 
it is that we find you here,’ said Oliver. 

‘ I told you ; I followed on.’ 

‘ But how did you manage it ? Does the Colonel 
know you ’re here ? ’ 

‘ No, sir ; you ’ll tell ’im in the mornin’. By 
the way, sir, I ain’t a-goin’ to be servant to the whole 
orficers’ mess. You an’ Mr Drummond is all right ; 
even Mr Crawford ain’t so bad ; but Mr Skinner, 
what the men call “ Sausage,” an’ Mr Harris, what ’s 
always a-readin’ an’ fiddlin’ — well, they ain’t the sort 
o’ people I like. I don’t mind sojers, an’ I like 
gentlemen, an’ on such I’ll wait; but I ain’t no 
bloomin’ mess waiter.’ 

‘Now, look here. Rock,’ said Vivian; ‘you’re a 
great deal too free in your speech, and you’ve got 
to alter it, or we shall disagree. Tell me at once 
how you got heroi or I’ll hand you over to the 
guard.’ 

‘ I ain’t committed no crime.’ 

‘What about turning out the Somersets’ band 
to play us ofi* from camp against the Colonel’s 
orders ? ’ 

Rock gave an almost perceptible whistle, but, 
instantly resuming his wooden appearance, pretended 
he did not know what Vivian meant. 

‘ It ’s no good. Mr Hastings had it from the band- 


80 


CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 


master himself. If I tell the Colonel he ’ll put you 
under arrest.’ 

‘ But you won’t, sir.’ 

‘ Oh ! and why not ? ’ 

‘’Cos you’re a gentleman, sir, an’ gentlemen don’t 
do such things.’ 

‘ You admit the offence, then ? ’ 

‘ Not at all, sir.’ 

‘All riorht. I’ll see if the Colonel can get the 
truth out of you.’ 

‘ ’Old on, sir ; ho need to tell ’im.* 

‘ How did you manage to get over here, then ? ’ 

‘ The captain left in command of the depot couldn’t 
agree with me; and when I asked to be sent over 
’ere, ’e jumped at the chance.’ 

‘ Oh, I see ; you made yourself such a nuisance that 
he was glad to get rid of you — eh ? ’ 

‘ ’E didn’t say so. ’E just got me attached to an 
A.S.C. unit which was cornin’ over, an’ I got sent on 
’ere, where I ’eard the reg’ment was cornin’, and 
that ’s all.’ 

‘ Well, I ’ll report the matter to the Colonel in the 
morning. And now we ’re off to bed.’ 

He and Oliver ascended the rather rickety stairs, 
and found a couple of quite decent mattresses on the 
floor, with three army blankets on each. 

Rock came up with them. ‘I’ve made the other 
gents comfortable,’ he said. ‘ After all, they ain’t so 
bad ; an’ as we sha’n’t be ’ere long, an’ they ’re chums 
o’ you two like, I ’ll just look after ’em.’ 

‘ That ’s better.’ 

‘ Good-night, gentlemen.’ 

‘ Good-night.’ . 

‘ Oh, and p’raps if the Colonel don’t know nothing 



‘ How the dickens did you get here ? ’ asked Vivian sternly. 

F I’AGE 77 . 


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CHEERY DICK GETS THINGS READY. 81 

about that band business, it might be as well not to 
mention it.’ 

‘ I ’ll see,’ said Vivian. 

‘ And, of course, as to gettin’ out ’ere, why, the 
Colonel hisself said as I should come with -the first 
draft, an’ so that ’s all right.’ 


O.H. 


P 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 

T ime did not hang on the hands of the Wessex 
Fusiliers. The very next day they were 
inspected by the Brigadier, who, after warmly 
welcoming them, expressed himself delighted with 
their soldier-like appearance, and said that if they 
only came up to the other Territorial battalions under 
his command he should be perfectly satisfied. Not a 
man in the Wessex but vowed he would do his best 
to knock the record of every other battalion sick. 
They were to be employed the very next day; and 
the Brigadier said that as they were new troops he 
would ‘ let them down lightly ’ at first. 

Soon after dawn next day two companies, armed 
with picks and spades, were marched off. Oliver, 
Vivian, and Crawford were amongst the subalterns, a 
captain being in command. They marched about 
a mile towards the front to a spot where the 
Engineers were busy digging shelter-trenches and 
preparing an emplacement for a heavy battery. 

The Wessex were shown what they had to do, and 
soon, in shirt-sleeves, they were wielding pick and 
shovel with a will. The men were working on a 
front of several hundred yards, and, the morning 
being fine, were smoking, whistling, and laughing, as 
merry as possible. 

Crawford’s platoon was next to Oliver’s, and the 
officers were standing talking, when suddenly, above 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 


83 


the sullen boom of distant firing, a roaring, whistling 
sound was heard. 

‘ A shell, by Jove ! ’ said Oliver ; and Crawford, all 
excitement, looked up in the air as though expecting 
to see it. He did not, but he heard a terrific report, 
and saw a great cloud of black smoke burst out some 
distance in the rear. 

The noise startled every one, and all left oflf work. 
One or two of the oflScers, Crawford among them, 
walked over and looked at th^ great yawning hole 
torn by the shell ; but Oliver and Vivian stayed with 
the men. 

‘ That 's simply the enemy saying, “ Good-morning, 
boys,”* said Vivian in a minute or so. ‘Take no 
notice; but, if a shell drops near you, throw your- 
selves flat on the ground, and do not move until after 
the explosion.* 

There were a few pale faces amongst the men, and 
one or two did not resume work for a minute or two. 
The others, however, started at once, and laugh and 
joke were soon being bandied about. 

To reassure the men, Oliver and Vivian had taken 
pick and shovel in hand, as had Crawford, when 
again that screaming roar sounded, and a second shell 
fell a little to their left. A sort of gasp of anxiety 
went along the rows of diggers, and again came the 
terrific roar of the explosion. No one was injured, 
and the men kept on working. Then at intervals 
of about ten minutes the huge shells kept dropping ; 
but by good luck no one was hit, and the men began 
joking about it. 

‘ Look out, Tom ! * a man would cry. ‘ Another 
express train coming ; all change for the Bank.’ 

Vivian’s practised eye, however, could see that the 


84 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 


German gunners were gradually getting the range, 
and he and Oliver made the men lie down on the 
first sound of the shell coming. Presently there was 
a hoarse shout as a shell fell; and, looking round 
after the explosion, the friends saw that the projectile 
had fallen right amongst a working party, and that 
several huddled-up forms lay upon the ground, some 
still, one or two jerking spasmodically. 

The Wessex had suffered their first casualty ! 
Oliver and Vivian ran to the spot. 

‘Pass the word for the stretcher-party,’ said Vivian, 
and he turned to look at the wounded. Alas ! an old 
sergeant — his identity was established by his braces, 
for his head was blown completely off — and a lad 
barely nineteen were dead ; two others were danger- 
ously wounded, and three less severely. 

The stretchers were soon up, and the ghastly 
burdens lifted on to them. One of the less seriously 
wounded was a lad named Rogers, of Vivian’s platoon. 
A shell-splinter had smashed several fingers of his 
left hand and lacerated the muscles of his right leg 
— extremely painful wounds, though not dangerous. 
He lay patiently awaiting the stretcher, and Oliver 
stood by him. 

‘This is not fair, Rogers,’ he said gaily. ‘You’ll be 
home again for a few weeks’ holiday, while your chums 
are out here. Your time for leave hasn’t arrived yet.’ 

‘ I don’t want to go home, sir ; I ’d sooner be here 
with the boys,’ replied the plucky lad. ‘ I shall get 
laughed at for being home wounded before I ’ve fired 
a shot or seen a German.’ 

‘ Never mind. You ’ll have better luck next time.’ 

‘ I hope so, sir.’ 

He winced a bit as he was lifted on to the stretcher. 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 85 

but he bit his lip ; and, on being settled, cried out to 
a chum to give him a cigarette and light it. And 
then the procession started, some turning their heads 
away as the two dead men passed them ; but the 
wounded were cheerful enough, Rogers waving his un- 
wounded hand and saying he would give his chums’ 
kind regards to the girls they had left behind them. 

Hardly had the wounded gone when two shells 
came over in quick succession ; and, though no one was 
hurt, they fell uncomfortably close. The men were a 
little unnerved, and Oliver and Vivian wished fiercely 
that they might only get a chance of having a shot 
back, for they knew that to work passively under fire, 
and to suffer losses without the joyous excitement of 
hitting back, is the soldier’s most trying experience. 

‘ We must keep their spirits up,’ said Vivian, as he 
handed Oliver a cigarette, and they both lit up. 
‘ Let ’s walk round amongst them.’ 

Crawford came up. ' I say, you fellows, what "s the 
correct thing to do ? ’ he asked. ‘ I never considered 
this passive endurance sort of business.’ 

‘Have a cigarette, Crawford. Let your men see 
that you have no fear, establish their confidence, and 
carry on.’ 

Crawford lit the cigarette given him and walked 
away, though he looked a little pale. 

And for nearly an hour longer the Wessex worked 
under fire, unable to retaliate in the slightest, while 
shells burst all round them, and occasionally in their 
midst. When what might be called the novelty of 
the danger had worn off, the men worked doggedly 
on, and though they suffered eleven more casualties 
not a man flinched. Then came an order for them to 
retire. 


86 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 


One of the Brigadier’s staff, who had brought the 
order, dismounted and marched beside Oliver. ‘I 
can’t make out how the dickens the enemy got news 
of our whereabouts,’ he said. ‘There have been no 
aeroplanes over this; morning, and we’re quite 
invisible from the German position.’ 

‘ Spies, I expect,’ said Oliver. ‘ It was always the 
case in the early part of the war, and I expect it is 
now.’ 

‘That’s what the General thinks; but we’ve not 
been able to discover any. I hear your men behaved 
like old soldiers.’ 

‘They did; and if this is what the General calls 
“ letting them down lightly,” I wonder what he calls 
giving it to them hot.’ 

The officer smiled as he mounted his horse and 
trotted off. 

The men were marched back to their quarters, and 
the Colonel complimented them for their steadiness 
under fire. ‘ The Boches have drawn first blood,’ he 
said, ‘ but if I ’m spared I promise you we ’ll get even 
with then\ before very long.’ 

‘ Good heavens, Hastings ! ’ said Crawford to him 
as they walked towards their quarters, ‘ I believe I ’m 
a coward.’ 

‘ Nonsense, man ! You looked as cool as a cucumber, 
smoking a cigarette, walking about chatting cheerily 
to your platoon.’ 

‘ Looked — yes ; but the fact is I was literally in a 
blue funk ; though, for the Lord’s sake, don’t tell any 
one else.’ 

Oliver burst out laughing. ‘ And do you think I 
wasn’t ? ’ he asked. 

‘ No ; were you really, though ? ’ 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 87 

‘ I give you my word I was ; and so, I ’ll bet, was 
Vivian.’ 

‘ But you two looked so cool and brave.’ 

‘My dear boy, in a month you’ll do the same. 
Familiarity breeds contempt. You’ll get so used to 
being under fire that, though at first you ’ll feel 
nervous, you ’ll conquer it and take no notice.’ 

‘ You ’ve put new life into me ; for if I thought I 
was going to show the white feather I ’d shoot myself 
off-hand.’ 

That night they returned to their work ; and, 
though there had been no firing all day, they hadn’t 
been working an hour before the shells came dropping 
over. 

‘ It ’s pretty clear to me there are spies in the place, 
and they give the news to the Germans ; though how 
I can’t imagine.’ 

There were no casualties during the night; and, 
very tired, they returned to their quarters. 

Next day the other half of the regiment took over 
the duty, and that night an important gun position 
was finished. The heavy guns were already in the 
town, and during the night were taken up by the 
artillery and placed in position. They were all care- 
fully covered with branches of trees and tarpaulin, so 
that an aeroplane could not discover them, for it was 
intended to open on the Germans from that spot as a 
sort of surprise. Various fatigue-parties toiled taking 
up a supply of ammunition ; and a detachment of the 
Wessex, with which were Oliver and Vivian, were 
busy finishing shell-proof shelters for the gunners. 

The day dawned and the sun rose, the work being 
almost finished. There was nothing to make any one 
at a distance suspect the presence of the battery, and 


88 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 


the men had nearly all taken shelter in the trenches, 
when an aeroplane was heard buzzing and humming 
overhead. At once half-a-dozen pairs of glasses were 
turned upon it, but any one could see with the naked 
eye it was a German Taube machine, on account of 
its wing-shaped planes and its tail. When first seen 
it was at a great height, but it dropped and circled 
round and round, like some monstrous bird looking 
for a place to alight. 

‘ Upon my word, you ’d think they were trying to 
find out where the battery is,’ said Oliver to Vivian. 
‘It seems as if they knew it was somewhere about 
here, and could not locate it.* 

‘ It ’s more than probable that is exactly the case>* 
replied Vivian. 

‘ But how can they know ? It ’s impossible for 
their spies to pass our trenches.’ 

‘ Perhaps we shall find out later on.’ 

No one moved or betrayed his presence in any way, 
and presently the aeroplane flew back to the German 
lines. 

The new battery had been placed on some slightly 
rising ground, just at the edge of a wood. Behind it 
were several fields which had once been under culti- 
vation ; to the right was arable land, several cottages 
being visible about a mile away. To the left a lane 
led back to the village in which were the troops. 
Vivian was looking out across the arable land, where 
he noticed an old man with a plough, to which was 
harnessed a miserable- looking horse. The man was just 
the ordinary peasant of the country ; but, instead of 
a hat, his head was tied up in a black silk handker- 
chief. Vivian did not take much notice of the man, 
though, for the horse claimed most of his attention. 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 


89 


Although it was in poor condition, it was a very big 
horse, a rusty gray in colour, and standing over 
sixteen hands high. It had a peculiar shambling 
gait, and jerked its head about as it walked. 

Vivian was just calling Oliver’s attention to these 
points when the rumbling buzz of a propeller was 
heard, and again the German aeroplane flew over- 
head. 

All eyes were naturally turned upwards, in expecta- 
tion of a bomb being dropped, when Vivian, remem- 
bering the ploughman, turned to see what he was 
doing to obtain shelter did the aeroplane drop any 
bombs. The old man, however, was taking not the 
slightest notice, but, having dropped the coulter in 
the earth, was ploughing a furrow almost at right 
angles to the previous ones, and directly towards the 
centre of the battery. He kept straight on till within 
fifty yards, then turned round and went back. Soon 
after the aeroplane disappeared again, and the old 
man, having got back to his original furrow, stuck 
his ploughshare in the ground, unharnessed his horse, 
and went ofi* as though to breakfast. 

The coast being clear, the men came from their 
shelters and resumed work. About half-an-hour later, 
without any warning, the rush of a shell was heard, 
and a ten-inch dropped within a hundred yards of 
the battery. Another and another followed, and the 
range was so good that several of the guns were hit 
The men took shelter in the trenches; but some 
casualties occurred, while the battery was pretty 
well knocked to pieces. The men were hot in their 
wrath at seeing all their work destroyed, and the 
artillerymen were especially furious to behold their 
beloved guns damaged. 


90 


THE WESSEX ARE LET DOWN LIGHTLY. 


‘It’s a dashed funny thing/ said an artillery 
subaltern to Oliver, ‘ but the Boches seem to find out 
everything. It ’s clear they ’ve spotted this battery, 
though how on earth they did so passes my com- 
prehension.’ 

‘ Second sight,’ said Vivian dryly. 

‘ Bosh ! ’ replied the gunner angrily. ‘ You may as 
well tell me they can mesmerise us.’ 

‘You mistake my meaning. I mean they must 
have some one this side who uses his eyes for 
them.’ 

‘Oh, I take you — spies! That’s very likely. 
We ’re surrounded by them ; but it ’s impossible to 
get the information over to the Boches ; there wouldn’t 
be time.’ 

‘There may be.’ 

‘ How ? ’ 

‘ That I am going to try to find out. You ’re con- 
vinced that the Germans have got wind of this battery, 
and have not discovered it with their aeroplane.’ 

‘ Perfectly.’ 

‘ I think you are right, too. But here comes a staff 
officer with news. Shall we open fire, or shall we 
retire, I wonder ? ’ 

‘We shall know in a few minutes;’ and so they 
did. The order was for all the men to retire except 
the artillerymen. They were not to fire, but to keep 
under shelter and await further orders. 

‘ And shift our guns again for the Boches to smash 
up,’ growled the gunner. ‘ But we ’ll give them sox 
yet. Wait till we open on them.’ 


CHAPTER XIIL 


A TUEN AT DETECTIVE WOEK. 

‘ AND you think that the enemy is getting his 
XjL information from spies, Colonel Hastings ? ' 

‘ I most certainly do, General ; but, as I said before, 
I am basing my opinion more on what Mr Drummond 
and my son have told me than on my own personal 
observations. I think I have already mentioned that 
they were out here from the beginning of the war 
till Neuve Chapelle, that Mr Drummond was in the 
Secret Service before the war, and that both of* 
them have had considerable experience of German 
methods.’ 

‘ Well, I should like to see these two officers, and 
hear their opinions myself ; ’ and very shortly after- 
wards Oliver and Vivian were closeted with Colonel 
Hastings and the General in command. 

The result of the interview was that the two young 
officers were relieved from regimental duty for a few 
days, and entrusted with the task of unearthing the 
spies, or in some other way of finding out how the 
enemy got news of the movements of the British in 
that sector. 

‘ This is a job after my own heart,’ said Vivian, as 
they were on their way back to their quarters ; ‘ a free 
hand, and no one but ourselves to bother about.’ 

‘ It will put me in mind of our trip down-country 
from Mainz to Liege,’ said Oliver. ‘ That was an 
exciting time, anyway.’ 


92 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 


‘More exciting than healthy/ chimed in Colonel 
Hastings, who. had left the General’s quarters with 
them. ‘ Remember, you are not to take any unneces- 
sary risks. The General would be very cross if any- 
thing happened to you, and I rely largely on your 
help to steady the boys when we get into our first 
stand-up scrap.’ 

‘ We ’ll be careful, dad,’ said Oliver. ‘ Don’t worry ; 
there ’ll be no danger. It will be more a war of wits 
than of weapons.’ 

On returning to their quarters they sat down to 
discuss the best way of setting about the business. 

‘I must say I strongly suspect that old peasant 
fellow who ploughed straight towards the battery,’ 
remarked Vivian. ‘ It was very strange that directly 
he, as it were, located our position, the aeroplane 
sheered off*, and in a few minutes the Boches 
were sending their compliments from their heavy 
artillery.’ 

‘ It ’s quite possible you ’re right, Vivian ; but we 
shall have to act circumspectly, for it would not do 
to make a mistake and hurt the feelings of our 
Allies.’ 

‘ Trust me ; my Secret Service work taught me the 
way to go about this sort of inquiry. And that 
reminds me that it won’t do for us to go butting in 
on this business in British uniform. Some sort of 
disguise will be necessary.’ 

‘There’s also the language difficulty. Neither you 
nor I speak Flemish or Walloon.’ 

‘True; but with our knowledge of French and 
German we should be able to make a pretty good 
guess at what we hear. And this will be more a case 
of using our eyes than our tongues.’ 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. ^93 

They were still discussing the best way of setting 
about the business when Skinner came in. ‘Hallo, 
you fellows ! plotting mischief — eh ? ’ he asked in his 
irresponsible fashion. 

‘Yes,* replied Oliver; ‘were considering the 
possibility of putting the natives here through a 
course of Swedish drill, with you as instructor.’ 

‘ Brute ! ’ cried Skinner. ‘ If you ever mention 
Swedish drill to me again, I’ll write the pater to 
send you a hundredweight of his infamous sausages, 
and make you live on them until they’re’ all 
gone.’ 

‘Jolly good idea! I like them, and I’m sure I 
could do a roaring trade among the jiatives with 
those I could not eat myself.’ 

‘ Talking of natives, they ’re an inquisitive crowd,’ 
said Skinner. 

‘ In what way ? ’ 

‘ Why, you know, Harris and I have been on trans- 
port work for the last two days. On several occasions 
we ’ve met natives who have asked a hundred and one 
questions about the troops.’ 

‘ What sort of questions ? ’ asked Vivian, at once on 
the alert. 

‘Oh, what regiment we belonged to, how strong 
we were, what part of England we came from, how 
long we ’d been in training, when we were going into 
the trenches, and all that sort of thing. As a matter 
of fa-ct, I ’ve come back each day with the same man, 
a sort of superior farmer, a jolly interesting fellow 
to talk to, who smokes excellent cigars, and speaks 
English as well as you or I.’ 

‘ Heavens, man ! I hope you don’t chatter to him. 
How do you know who or what he is ? Don’t you 


94 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 


realise that all such information as he has been asking 
for is of great use to the enemy ? ’ 

‘ Yes, yes, of course it is ; but then he ’s a Belgian, 
and lives somewhere hereabouts.* 

‘ Do you know where ? * 

‘ No ; he simply said in an off-hand sort of way that 
he lived near here.’ 

‘ For all you know, Skinner, the man may be a 
German spy; you can’t be too careful. If you see 
him again, detain him until either the Colonel or the 
Brigadier has questioned him.’ 

‘ But you don’t really think he ’s a spy, do 
you?’ 

‘ I think that it is very wrong to give any informa- 
tion at all to anybody that you ’re not absolutely 
sure of, so don’t give him any.’ 

Having warned Skinner, neither Oliver nor Vivian 
mentioned anything about the matter they had in 
hand, fearing lest he might betray them without 
thinking. 

They left the room and went out into the garden, 
where Cheery Dick was walking up and down 
smoking. Seeing his masters, he took his pipe from 
his mouth and approached them. ‘ I can fix you up 
with them there togs,’ he said. ‘When do you 
want ’em ? ’ 

Now, since the night when Vivian had mentioned 
the band incident to Private Rock, that gentleman 
had been very docile. Directly he showed any sign of 
restlessness Vivian would just threaten to mention 
to the .Colonel how it was that the Somersets had 
played the Wessex out of camp, and immediately 
Cheery became the most obedient of servants. In 
spite of the bold front he put on, Vivian had a strong 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 


95 


suspicion that besides feeling a good deal of respect 
for a fine soldier, Richard Rock stood considerably 
in awe of his commanding officer. 

So, when he mentioned about the ‘togs,’ Vivian 
suspected that he had been listening, and turned 
angrily upon him. ‘ What do you mean by listening 
to a private and confidential conversation ? ’ he 
demanded sharply. 

‘Well, I like that!’ answered Rock in an aggrieved 
tone. ‘I’m out ’ere an’ ’ears voices throuorh the 

o 

open window. ’Ow do I know as it ain’t spies in 
the room ? So I just lies doggo an’ listens, ’ears 
what you’re a-sayin’, an* findin’ out that it was 
you, off I goes, an’ then you comes a-chewin’ my ear. 
Ongrateful, sir, I calls it ! ’ 

‘ None of your humbug. What did you hear ? ’ 

‘That you an’ Mr Hastings wants a disguise, an’ 
that I can get. An’ let me tell you this, sir, that 
if you wants any ’elp in the job you ’re a-takin’ on, 
you might do worse than ’ave Dick Rock beside you. 
I ’ve stalked an Afridi up in the North-West,’ and 
he jerked his pipe over his shoulder, as if India 
were just behind him ; ‘ I ’ve followed the spoor o’ 
a Boer for twenty mile on end ; an’ I ’ve taken — I 
mean I’ve seen — the pillow sneaked from under a 
man’s ’ead without wakin’ ’im. Trust me, I ain’t 
sojered all my life without learnin’ a thing or two, 
an’ I ain’t bin ’ere more ’n a week without gettin’ the 
measure o’ the natives.’ 

Vivian could not forbear smiling at the plausible 
old rascal, and he had to admit that, as a servant, he 
was excellent. Rock took care that his masters never 
went short of anything, and when asked where he got 
the various comforts and delicacies that adorned the 


96 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 


table, he simply jerked his thumb over his shoulder 
and replied vaguely, ‘ Oh, over there.’ 

The help of such a man might be very valuable, 
and Vivian whispered his idea to Oliver, who was 
quite of the same opinion. They both knew, too, 
that Rock could be as close as an oyster when it 
pleased him. 

* Now, look here,’ said Oliver ; ‘ Mr Drummond and 
I are going to undertake a very delicate mission. We- 
may ask your help; but if you mention a word to 
any one the Colonel will know all about it, and 
something else besides.’ 

Cheery tapped his nose with the forefinger of his 
right hand, and such an inexpressibly cunning look 
crossed his face that both Vivian and Oliver had to 
laugh. 

Vivian gave him some money, and told him to 
procure a couple of suits, and to bring them into the 
house without any one knowing it. 

‘That’s as good as done,’ replied Rock. He pro- 
cured the disguises ; and after lunch the two 
subalterns, dressed as middle-class traders, left the 
house unnoticed. Rock followed them at a little 
distance, and the three made first of all down a lane 
that led from the back of their quarters right by 
the two or three dilapidated houses that were at the 
far end of the field the old man had been ploughing 
when he first aroused Vivian’s suspicions. 

On getting close to the houses Vivian noticed that 
one was considerably larger than the others, and had 
a stable and some outhouses belonging to it. 

‘Do you know who lives there?’ Vivian asked of 
Rock. 

‘ There ’s an old woman, I know, and I ’ve seen a 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 


97 


’ulkin’ fellow who ought to be in the army,’ replied 
Rock; ‘but which o’ the shanties they live in, or 
whether there’s any more in the family or not, I 
don’t know.’ 

‘Suppose we just look round,’ suggested Oliver, 
‘ while Rock keeps out of the way ? ’ 

‘ A good idea ! ’ agreed Vivian. — ‘ Keep down here 
in the lane, Rock, and we ’ll reconnoitre.’ 

Rock sat down under a hedge, while Oliver and 
Vivian went on up the lane past the building. The 
ground rose on each side of them ; and, going some 
distance along, the officers climbed the bank and 
looked down on the houses. The two smaller had 
at one time or another suffered considerably from 
shell-fire, and were partly burnt; the largest one 
had a corner blown off, but was not burnt. Most 
of the windows were gone, and boards had been 
nailed across ; smoke was coming from the chimney. 

‘ Some one at home evidently ! ’ whispered Oliver. 

‘ Hang it, and an unpleasant somebody ! ’ replied 
Vivian, as a large, savage-lookingj mongrel was seen 
sniffing about round the outhouses. 

‘ Don’t call his attention, or he ’ll bark, Vivian, and 
give the show away.’ 

There were no signs of sheep, cattle, or pigs, and 
there was no sound of work of any sort going on. 

‘I am afraid we shan’t get much information this 
journey, Oliver. The language difficulty would betray 
us, or we ’d go boldly up and enter into conversation, 
trusting to chance to find out something.’ 

‘ We ’ll be better prepared next time ; we must 
think of a plan.’ 

They watched for some time; but there was no 
sign of human occupants, so they rejoined Rock. 

O.H. G 


98 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 


‘I’ve got an idea/ said Vivian. ‘We’ll send Rock 
boldly up to the house to attempt to buy eggs. He 
must keep his eyes, open, and get hold of the dog. 
Then he must give us the tip, and we ’ll sneak up 
and have a look round. We may discover something.’ 

Rock was told what was wanted, and he imme- 
diately entered into the idea. ‘You ’old on ’ere till 
you ’ear me whistlin’ • the “Rogue’s March,”’ he said, 

‘ then you fire away.’ 

‘ You possibly know the “ Roguo’s March ” better 
than we do/ smiled Oliver ; ‘I’m not sure of it, so 
suppose you substitute “ The British Grenadiers.” ’ 

‘ Right you are ; ’ and Rock took a revolver from 
his pocket and just glanced at it to see that it was 
loaded. 

‘ That ’s mine, you old rascal ! ’ said Oliver. 

‘Just so, sir; I thought you might want it, so I 
brought it along. As I ’m stormin’ the fort, so to 
speak, I ’ll take it with me. I don’t stand no bloomin’ 
shoemakin’ tricks from furriners, and if any one up 
there ’ — and Cheery nodded towards the house — 

‘ interferes with Dick Rock, there ’ll be graves wanted 
afore the week ’s out.’ And away he went. 

Oliver and Vivian waited anxiously, creeping close 
up to the houses, and presently they heard some one 
lustily whistling ‘ The British Grenadiers.’ Stepping 
as lightly as possible, they approached the • houses, 
giving keen glances to right and left. * The first two 
houses were certainly empty, and they reached the 
outbuildings of the third. The cowhouse was empty ; 
a barn was falling into ruins; but in the stable a 
horse was rattling his headstall. They entered, and 
Vivian took hold of Oliver’s arm. 

‘ The very horse that was drawing the plough ! ’ he 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 99 

whispered. ‘ I ’d swear to the rusty-gray colour of 
the beast, and the size of him.’ 

‘ And see ! there ’s a saddle on a peg. Hardly looks 
like a saddle-horse, does he ? ’ 

They had barely time to notice that when they 
heard some one whistle the ‘Alarm.’ 

‘That’s Rock !’ cried Vivian. ‘Off we go.’ 

Without being seen by any one, they reached the 
lane, the furious barking of a dog sounding behind 
them. 

‘ I wonder what ’s up ! ’ said Oliver nervously. ‘ I 
suppose Rock is all right.’ 

‘ Trust him ! These people are Belgians, and dare 
not molest a British soldier. Besides, he’s got the 
pistol, and you may be sure he would not hesitate to 
use it if he were in any danger. Still, if he doesn’t 
return in five minutes we ’ll go up to the house and 
see what ’s happened.’ 

In a couple of minutes, however, they heard some 
one whistling a military quickstep, and saw Rock 
with a paper parcel in his hand coming towards them. 
Vivian made him a rapid signal to follow, and then 
strode off ; nor did they stop until they were almost 
at their own quarters. 

‘Well, Rock, what happened?’ they both asked 
when the old soldier rejoined them. 

‘ I know what ought to ha’ ’appened,’ replied Rock 
disgustedly. ‘ I oughter broke the neck o’ that old 
’ag in the ’ouse, an’ ha’ brained that savage tyke 
o’ ’ers.’ 

‘ Tell us the particulars.’ 

‘ There ain’t much to tell. I goes up to the ’ouse 
an’ gets in the kitchen, when out comes the dog, 
an’ up goes ’is back, an’ ’e begins growlin’ most 


100 A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 

’orrible. I snaps niy fingers at ’im an’ calls ’im good 
doggie ; but ’e only shows ’is teeth an’ grins at me in 
a way as fair gave me the shivers. Then I sees a bit 
o’ meat on a table, so I chucks ’im that, an’ the way 
’e wolfed it was a caution. When ’e ’d done I started 
pattin’ ’im, an’, ’avin’ established friendly relations, 
was lookin’ about, when in bounces the old ’ag. I 
smiles an’ arsts for eggs or milk, an’ shows 'er a 
couple o’ franc-pieces ; but she dances about screamin’ 
out somethin’, an’ makin’ most ’ijous faces. I patted 
my stummick, pointed to my mouth, an’ shook the 
money under ’er nose. Lumme, I should like to ha’ 
broke ’er neck ! All the time she tries to bustle me 
out ; but I ain’t takin’ any, an’ sits down strokin’ the 
dog. Then she starts /screamin’, One franc, one 
franc,” an’ gets a knife an’ goes off. I gripped the 
dog’s collar an’ starts whistlin’ to give you the tip, 
an’ ’olds the dog like grim death till the old ’ag comes 
back with a lump o’ cheese in paper. Then I shakes 
my ’ead, pretends that isn’t what I want, an’ we 
’oilers an’ screams at one another, I purposely makin’ 
as much noise as I could. Then I suppose the dog 
’eard somethin’, for ’e begins growlin’, an’ tries to 
break away, an’ the old woman was clearly tellin’ me 
to let ’im go ; but I ’olds on to ’is scruff, an’ shook 
my napper as though I was afeerd o’ the brute, till 
at last ’e was fair gettin’ out o’ ’and, when I 
whistles the “Alarm.” I guessed you’d understand, 
so I give the old ’ag the franc an’ made ’er ’old the 
dog, when I just shows ’er the revolver an’ give ’er 
a gentle ’int that if she lets ’im go till I ’m clear o’ 
the show there ’s goin’ to be trouble. The old ’ag 
takes the dog, an’ I ’opped it, an’ ’ere I am.’ 

‘ She clearly wanted to get rid of you,’ said Vivian. 


A TURN AT DETECTIVE WORK. 


101 


‘ No doubt about that.’ 

‘ There ’s something she wishes to conceal there ! ’ 
exclaimed Oliver. ‘We must search the place.* 

‘ And before they ’ve got time to remove anything. 
— I don’t suppose they ’d think you suspected any- 
thing, Rock ; but stay behind. Keep a watch on the 
place, and note if any one leaves or enters.’ 

‘ Right, sir.’ 

‘ When it gets dark come to the Colonel’s quarters 
for further orders.’ 

Rock turned back, and Oliver and Vivian went on 
towards the town. 

‘ We ’ll have a stroll round and keep our eyes open. 
We may strike lucky.’ 


CHAPTER XIV. 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 
iTHOUGH SO close to the firing-line that it 



jr\. was possible at any moment for a high-explo- 
siVe shell to fall in its very midst, life in the little 
town went on much as usual. True, the ruined 
buildings, glassless windows, and the many closed 
shops were grim evidenQ.es of the war. But those 
people who were left were going about their usual 
vocations in an unconcerned fashion; and, , familiar 
with scenes of death, the people paid no heed to 
them. Housewives chattered in groups ; children 
played in the streets; farmers from the surrounding 
country brought in their produce ; and Tommy, here, 
there, and everywhere, bought what he wanted, 
nodded to the elders, romped with the children, or 
smiled merrily at the girls. , 

Through these scenes moved Vivian and Oliver, 
no one taking much notice of them, though little 
escaped their observation. They had walked once 
throtigh the town, and Oliver was beginning to think 
their time had been wasted, when Vivian whispered 


to him, ‘ Look over the road — the old man of the 


plough ! ’ 

Oliver saw a tall, thin old man, his head no longer 
tied in a black silk handkerchief, but wearing a high- 
crowned hat, sauntering along. 

‘ Are you sure he is the man, Vivian ? ’ 

‘ Certain ; I particularly observed his wispy gray 
hair. We ’ll follow him at a distance.’ 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 


103 


This they did, and observed that the old man, 
whenever he met a group of light-hearted Tommies, 
would stop and smile upon them benignantly, espe- 
cially if they were talking loudly among themselves. 
Working parties of all sorts he was interested in, and 
would stop and chat with them. 

‘Understands English, anyway,’ said Oliver. ‘We 
ought to ask these fellows what he said,* only we 
should be giving ourselves away.’ 

‘ We shall have him presently,’ muttered Vivian, 
and they kept the old man in view. When they 
reached the centre of the town they found that a 
field battery had just marched in. The gunners, hot 
and dusty, were exchanging greetings with men 
of the Wessex or Hertfords, asking for news, and 
accepting thankfully the drinks brought to them. 
The old man walked about among the dismounted 
drivers and the gunners, spoke a word here and there, 
and then went off. Oliver and Vivian followed him, 
and saw him make a hurried note on a scrap of paper, 
which he thrust' into his pocket. He next made his 
way into a small cafe, in which several soldiers were 
seated ; and presently he was joined by a man with 
a fair beard, and they talked earnestly for some 
minutes. The stranger wore a light suit, brown 
gaiters, and a soft brown felt hat, and had the look 
of a well-to-do farmer. After a few . minutes the 
old man took the scrap of paper from his pocket and 
passed it to his companion. He then rose and de- 
parted. Oliver and Vivian, drinking up their coffee, 
also took their leave, and saw their quarry just dis- 
appearing round a corner. He left the town and 
made for the lane which led from the subalterns’ 
quarters to the lonely house. As he was now getting 


104 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 


away from the streets, Oliver and Vivian thought it 
best not to follow him any farther, lest he should 
notice them and get suspicious. 

‘ Rock will see him if he goes to the old house,’ 
said Oliver; and they made for the quarters of the 
Colonel, to whom they related what had happened. 

Soon after dark Cheery Dick arrived, brimming 
over with complaints and grumblings. ‘ What ’s the 
use o’ messin’ about watchin an’ spyin’ ? ’ he said. 
^•Why not take a file o’ men, seize all inside, an’ 
search the place ? ’ 

‘ Fair and softly,’ said Vivian ; ‘ that will come 
later. What have you discovered ? ’ 

‘ Naught.’ 

‘ Has any one left the house ? ’ 

‘No.’ 

‘ Any one arrived ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; a burly-lookin’ young ruflSan came across the 
fields an’ whistled, when out comes the old ’ag. 
They talked together a few minutes, an’ then the 
man went off. Later an old man with gray ’air 
came down the lane an’ entered the ’ouse.’ 

From questions it was clear that this was the old 
man they had been watching during the afternoon. 

‘The search is getting warm,’ said Oliver. ‘I’m 
convinced that old man is up to no good. We know 
now he lives at the suspected house, and that he’s 
very much interested in the movements of our troops. 
We must keep a close watch on him.’ 

Vivian and the Colonel were of the same opinion, 
and it was decided that a sharp lookout should be 
kept on the house. 

‘ We must get rid of these disguises,’ said Vivian. 
‘ I don’t think we shall need them again.’ 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 105 

Rock was sent over to their quarters for their 
uniforms; and, having changed, they were on their 
way back, when they almost ran against Skinner 
walking down the street with the stranger in the 
light suit and the brown felt hat. Vivian nudged 
Oliver, and they hurried past; but Skinner shouted 
out, ‘ Wait a minute, you fellows ; I ’m coming ; * and 
he came running after them. 

‘ Who ’s your friend ? ’ asked Vivian. 

‘ He s the very fellow I was telling you about th^ 
morning. He was asking me about a battery that 
came in to-day; but I remembered what you said, 
and told him I knew nothing about it.’ 

‘ Good boy ! ’ said Vivian. ‘ I ’m glad you ’ve taken 
the tip.’ 

After dinner, Oliver, Vivian, and Rock, each armed 
with a revolver, started off, and, avoiding the lane, 
went across the fields towards the lonely house. It 
wa;S a fairly clear night, and for fear of the dog it 
was not deemed expedient to go too close. The three 
concealed themselves behind some bushes. There 
were lights in the lower part of the house, and from 
time to time some one was seen moving about between 
them and the building. Nothing suspicious, however, 
happened for fully two hours, when suddenly a red 
light, like the tail-light of a train, appeared on the 
top of the house. It was visible for* only a few 
seconds, and then disappeared again. After an in- 
terval of a minute or so it was again shown, and 
again a third time. 

‘ That ’s a signal,’ whispered Vivian. ‘ What ’s going 
to happen now ? ’ 

They had not long to wait, for voices were heard, 
and then a man on horseback was seen, and a dog 


106 IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 

was heard barking. A hoarse voice shouted, and 
the dog was silent; whereupon the horseman dis- 
appeared, followed by the dog. 

‘That’s lucky! We’ll get closer,’ said Vivian; 
and they crept silently forward till they reached the 
house, the door pf which stood open. All was dark 
inside, though voices could be heard. 

‘ It ’s a nuisance not knowing the language,’ whis- 
pered Oliver ; ‘ we might learn something.’ 

They crept to the stable, and found the horse was 
gone, as was also the saddle. 

‘Another clue,’ said Vivian. ‘Up at the front any 
one would notice that odd beast. We’ll find out 
where our friend visits.’ 

They crept back to the house and listened, when 
suddenly a faint ting-ting fell upon their ears, fol- 
lowed in a second or so by another ting-ting, ting- 
ting. 

‘ Come,’ said Vivian ; ‘ I ’ve got an idea.’ 

They crept away, and when they were well out of 
earshot Vivian said excitedly, ‘That ring we heard 
was a telephone bell, Oliver.’ 

‘Well?’ 

‘ That settles the thing. A telephone would be 
of use only to the enemy ; therefore the wire in all 
probability runs towards their trenches.’ 

‘ By Jove ! you ’re right.’ 

‘And we’ve got to find it, tap it, and there you 
are.’ 

‘That’s a brilliant idea! Come on, we must hold 
a council of war.’ 

They went over to the Colonel’s quarters, and 
Vivian made his suggestion. With some additions 
and modifications, this was accepted. 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 107 

‘ We must find a good electrician/ said the Colonel. 
‘ There is a telegraph section in the town ; I ’ll drop 
a note to the major in command, and borrow a man.’ 

‘ I should think we ’ve got plenty of fellows in our 
own corps/ suggested Oliver. ‘ I think we ought to 
keep all the kudos, if any is to be got.’ 

‘ Send Rock to request the Adjutant to step along 
here,’ said the Colonel. ‘ He knows every man in the 
regiment, and what he was before he joined.’ 

The Adjutant was soon with them, and was told 
how matters stood. 

‘ I ’ve suspected something of the kind ever since 
we ’ve been here,’ he said, ‘ and am not surprised at 
what you tell me. As to electricians, I could find 
you twenty; and perhaps a man who speaks the 
language here would be useful. There ’s a corporal 
in B company who was a university coach. He lived 
in Belgium for years, and speaks all the dialects.’ 

‘ Can he be trusted to keep his mouth shut ? 
Because if the suspects get the least idea that they 
are being watched we shall never catch them.’ 

‘ The men of whom I am thinking are quite gentle- 
men, sir.’ 

‘ That is enough. Send for them.’ 

Rock was sent with a note to the sergeant-major ; 
and, grumbling inaudibly about being made ‘mes- 
senger boy,’ away he went. 

Very shortly two soldiers presented themselves, 
and one look convinced both Oliver and Vivian that 
they were the right stamp of men. Grime and mud 
and sloppy-fitting khaki could not hide the fact that 
they were both of a good class, and their easy 
manner proclaimed their breeding. 

Corporal Arnold, fresh from superintending the 


108 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 


filling of sand-bags, was a B.A., and fully conversant 
with the Belgian languages; while Private Reedsdale 
had been a responsible official in the National Tele- 
phone Company’s service. Both were informed what 
was required of them, and both were bound over to 
say not a word to any of their comrades. 

‘A dozen reliable old soldiers are what we want 
now, Lindsay,’ said the Colonel to the Adjutant ; ‘ men 
who won’t hesitate to use a rifle or bayonet if 
occasion arises, but also men who are not likely to 
lose their heads and spoil the whole thing.’ 

‘ I can find them ; but sonie of them may be 
officers. Colonel’ 

‘ No matter.’ 

‘ And I should like to include myself.’ 

‘If you hadn’t I should have asked for your 
assistance.’ 

‘ Shall we assemble here ?’ 

‘Yes, I think that will be best.’ 

In about half-an-hour eighteen officers and men, 
all as keen as enthusiasm could make them, were 
assembled in the Colonel’s quarters. A brief ex- 
planation took place ; then — some armed with rifles, 
others with light picks and spades, Reedsdale and 
another man, also late of the telephone service, with 
long-handled iron hooks, somewhat like hoes, but 
with a sharp hook-like end, and the officers with 
revolvers — they all set out. 

Proceeding from Oliver and Vivian’s quarters, 
they posted a chain of sentries across the field at 
about one hundred yards distant from the lonely 
house, and these had strict orders to let no one pass 
from the side on which the house was, and to arrest 
any one coming from the opposite direction. No 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 109 

violence was to be used unless those challenged 
resisted ; but any show of force was to be met with 
bullet or bayonet. Old and experienced officers or 
men, amongst whom was Hock, were entrusted with 
the task. 

Oliver crept up closer in order to give warning by 
a timely whistle of the approach of any one from 
the house; while Vivian was with Reedsdale and a 
few men acting under his direction. 

The electrician took the lie of the house and of 
the German trenches, and immediately set to work 
searching the ground for wires. The work was 
carried out almost noiselessly; certainly there was 
not enough noise to alarm any one in the house, and 
Oliver lay crouched on the ground until he got 
chilled to the bone. But still nothing happened, 
and the only moving figures were the ghost-like 
patrolling sentries moving up and down. 

Presently he saw a thick-built man emerge from 
the house, listen a minute or two, then stride over 
in the direction of the sentries. Oliver gave a warn- 
ing whistle; on which the man stopped, looked all 
round him, and, seeing no one, went on again. One 
of the sentries had, however, seen and moved towards 
him. 

‘ 'Alt, there ! ' cried Rock’s voice, * or you ’re mutton.’ 

A guttural reply came from the man ; whereupon 
Rock cried, ‘ Stop, you slouching jackal ! If you 
don’t understand plain English, do you understand 
this ? ’ and a glittering bayonet was advanced within 
a foot of the man’s breast. The fellow stopped and 
dropped his hand towards his pocket as though in 
search of a weapon ; but before he could do anything 
the Adjutant, revolver in hand, came up to Rock’s 


110 


IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES ARE MADE. 


side, when the man, raising his cloth cap from 
his head, muttered something that seemed like an 
apology, and returned to the house, in which the 
lights were at once extinguished. 

Oliver, when the man had disappeared, crept over 
to the Adjutant, and learnt that the wire had been 
found, that Reedsdale had already made a connection, 
while the second telephone man was tracing the wire 
to its other terminal. 

The Colonel came up and joined them. ‘ Oliver,’ 
he said, ‘ I do not think you need remain any longer 
watching the house. No one will attempt to pass us 
now. Go on down the field and join Vivian, who is 
following up the wire. Report to me when it is 
found out where it leads to.’ 

Glad to be on the move, away Oliver went. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE TRAP IS SET. 

O N joining Vivian, Oliver learnt that Reedsdale, 
having connected up the wire from the house, 
was running a concealed cable ‘to the subalterns’ 
quarters. 

‘Arnold is there, and will tap any message going 
over the wire,’ explained Vivian, ‘ and we are trying 
to trace the other terminal. One of our men was 
a London linesman, and is as good as Reedsdale 
himself.’ 

This man followed the wire, which had been laid 
in one of the :^rrows, right across the field, and then 
for some distance along a ditch. It was carefully 
dug in under a lane, and it took a long time to find 
on the other side. Eventually it was discovered that 
it went right along towards the trenches, where the 
noise of intermittent firing grew louder and louder, 
and the occasional flare of German star-lights could 
be plainly seen. 

All trace of the cable was lost at a road that ran 
almost parallel to the support-trenches, and fully an 
hour was spent in fruitless search.. The men engaged 
were several times challenged by various British 
patrols, and Vivian had each time to explain the 
business they were on, and to satisfy the officers 
that they were really what they pretended to be. 

After a longer delay than usual, Vivian said, ‘ You 
go back to the Colonel, Oliver, and report progress ; 


112 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


you can be of no use here. I will see this thing 
through, and return as quickly as possible.’ 

Oliver did as his chum ordered, and on his return 
to his quarters found the Colonel there, Skinner fast 
asleep, Crawford all agog to hear the news, and 
Harris on duty. 

In the attic, with the Colonel, was Arnold, sitting 
on a box with a receiver to his ear, paper and pencil 
before him, and a telephone mouthpiece in his hand. 
There was a lantern on the floor, and a couple of 
blankets had been hung before the window by means 
of forks stuck in the window-frame. 

The Colonel looked pleased. ‘ We ’re on the right 
track,’ he said to his son when he entered. ‘ Arnold 
has already intercepted a message in the Walloon 
dialect. Some one rang up and asked whether the 
destination of the field battery had yet been dis- 
covered, and the answer came back, “No.” Then 
the speaker went on to say that soldiers were carry- 
ing out some movements on the old dike field, which 
is presumably the name of the ploughed field, and 
that Philip had been stopped from crossing the field 
by a sentry and threatened with death. The speaker 
was evidently alarmed ; but the man at the other end 
of the line pooh-poohed the idea, said the English 
were too big fools to suspect anything, and bade the 
speaker go on with his work. He added that he 
would ring through at noon for news ; and he par- 
ticularly wanted to discover when we were going 
to move up to the front-line trenches, and what 
regiment we were going to relieve.’ 

‘ By Jove, dad I that ’s good news. Surely we have 
enough evidence to arrest the lot now.’ 

‘ Enough to arrest, Oliver, but not to convict. 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


113 


We have the means, and I hope to take the mis- 
creants red-handed. I have arranged for the house 
in the lane to be watched, and at the least sign that 
the spies are likely to slip through our fingers they 
will be arrested. Now, will you relieve Arnold, and 
let him get a sleep ? Wake him if you hear anything 
on the wire. I must see the Brigadier.’ 

Oliver took over the receiver, and a couple of 
hours passed, during which it was as much as he 
could do to keep awake. Then Vivian returned with 
the news that they had traced the cable to a farm- 
house just behind the British trenches; but that, 
people being astir there, they had not entered. 

Vivian, Crawford, and Oliver took turns till day- 
light at listening ; and Rock, full of grumbles, came 
up presently to say breakfast was ready. 

‘ What all this bloomin’ fuss about a parcel o’ dirty 
spies is for beats me,’ he said. ‘If the Adjutant 
’adn’t come up I ’d ha’ given that scoundrel last night 
enough cold iron to ha’ settled ’is goose, an’ six feet 
o’ rope would ha’ done the business o’ the old man 
an’ the ’ag at the ’ouse, when we all might *ave gone 
comfortably to bed. I suppose the Colonel knows 
what ’e ’s doin’, but it ain’t the way we ’d ha’ done 
things in the old Fightin’ Fifth — not by long chalks.’ 

‘That’s all right. Cheery,’ said Oliver. ‘You’ll be 
in at the death, never fear.’ 

‘If I ain’t some one’ll ’ear about it,’ growled 
Cheery. ‘ I ain’t goin’ to spend a night out o’ bed 
for nothin’, I ’ope.’ 

At breakfast Rock heard the ofiScers talking about 
the information already obtained, and he pricked up 
his ears. Later on he told Vivian and Oliver he 
wanted a word or two in private. 

o.u. H 


114 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


‘TVe ’elped a good many Generals with ideas/ he 
said modestly, ‘and if I’d ha’ ’ad my deserts, I’d ha’ 
been in command o’ a reg’ment instead o’ bein’ ordered 
about by kids who wasn’t born when I was fightin’ 
my country’s battles.’ 

‘ If we all had our deserts, Rock, some of us might 
be in very different positions,’ said Vivian gravely. 

‘ True for you, sir.’ 

‘ In prison, for instance.’ 

‘ Bah, Mr Drummond ! you can never let a dead dog 
lie. Anyway^ ’ere ’s my idea. I understands as this 
’ere telephone affair is joined up with the spies’ 
machine.’ 

‘ That is so.’ 

‘ And they wants news ? ’ 

‘ Emphatically.’ 

‘ Then give it to ’em.’ 

‘ How do you mean ? ’ 

‘They wants to know when our crowd is goin’ in 
the trenches.’ 

‘ Yes.’ 

‘ Do you know why ? ’ 

‘ I guess why.’ 

‘ It ’s because the ’Uns thinks our mob ’ll make a 
mess o’ things, an’ they mean to jump their trench. 
D’ ye follow me ? ’ 

‘ Perfectly.’ 

‘ Tell ’em, then ; only let ’s ’ave some real fightin’ men 
to meet ’em, ’oist ’em with their own petard. Savvy ? ’ 

‘ By Jove ! there ’s sense in what you say.’ 

• ‘ Sense ! It ’s genius — the genius that wins battles. 
An’ you youngsters can take the kudos. Dick Rock 
don’t want no orders, nor mention in despatches ; ’e 
only wants peace an’ quietness.’ 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


115 


‘That’s what brought him out here, I suppose,’ 
laughed Oliver. 

However, the idea was communicated to the 
Colonel, who at once saw the possibilities. The 
Brigadier was consulted, and a plan was arranged. 
The Wessex were ordered to pack up for a move to 
the front. It was openly announced that they were 
to relieve the Wiltshires the next day ; and so that the 
news might get, to the right source, Oliver was sent 
with an interpreter to the lonely house to ask the 
old man if he had any wagons that he could spare, 
as the Wessex were going to the front, and were short 
of transport. 

Accordingly, with an interpreter, Oliver went up 
to the house, and was met by the dog, which growled 
and would not let him approach. Oliver drew his 
revolver and shouted out to attract attention ; where- 
upon the man Philip came running out, followed by 
the old man. Oliver, first in English, then in French 
and German, told them to call off the dog, or he would 
shoot it ; but they shook their heads as though not 
understanding, on which Oliver bade the interpreter 
repeat his words. 

Then Philip seized the dog’s collar, and Oliver bade 
the interpreter ask if either of them understood Eng- 
lish, French, or German. 

The interpreter asked, and replied that they did 
not. 

‘ Lie No. 1,’ thought Oliver, for from inquiries made 
it had been discovered that the old man had asked 
many of the Wessex questions in English. 

The following conversation then took place through 
the interpreter. 

‘Tell him,’ said Oliver, ‘that my regiment, the 


116 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


Wessex Fusiliers, is going to the trenches, and we 
want to purchase transport wagons. Has he got 
any ? ’ 

‘ He says he has not,’ translated the interpreter. 

‘ Can he tell us where we can get any ? ’ 

‘No.’ 

‘ Has he any horses ? ’ 

‘No.’ 

‘ Tell him to treat what I have said in confidence.’ 

‘ He says he will.’ 

‘ Ask him if that man is his son.’ 

‘ He is.’ 

‘ Will he take employment as a team-driver under 
the British ? ’ 

The son was seen to scowl at these words, and the 
interpreter said the old man’s reply was that he could 
not spare him. 

‘ Ask him why he is not serving in the army.’ 

‘ Because he is not medically fit,’ came the reply. 

‘Well, tell him not to wander about at night; it’s 
unhealthy,’ concluded Oliver meaningly ; and then 
they departed, followed by the scowls of both father 
and son. 

The trap having been set, there was nothing to do 
but to await events. The Wessex were very busy 
packing kits, and Vivian and Arnold sat with ears 
glued to the telephone awaiting results. A watch 
was set on the old man and his son ; and, soon after 
Oliver had left, the old man went down into the town, 
mixing freely with the soldiers, and keeping his ears 
open, though he said but little. 

He returned to the house about eleven o’clock, and 
then he and his son strolled out into the field. But 
in order to prevent any interference from them, half- 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


117 


a-dozen men under a corporal had been instructed to 
busy themselves taking measurements of the field, 
and to let no one pass while they were thus engaged ; 
so the old man and Philip turned back into the 
house. 

Meanwhile, full of expectancy, Vivian, Crawford 
(who was an expert stenographer), and Arnold sat up 
in the darkened attic listening by turns at the re- 
ceiver. It was not until about one o’clock that a call 
came, and instantly Crawford had note-book and 
pencil ready, while Vivian stood by to take the re- 
ceiver did the conversation take place in either French 
or German. 

Arnold placed the palm of his left hand firmly over 
the mouthpiece of the telephone, so that nothing that 
happened in the room could be heard by either of the 
speakers at the other two terminals ; then he listened, 
and, translating into English, clearly repeated the 
conversation, which Crawford wrote in shorthand. 

‘ Hallo ! hallo ! are you there ? ’ 

‘Yes, I ’m here.’ 

‘ Who is it ? ’ 

‘ Mairin.’ 

‘ God bless the Kaiser ! ’ 

‘ And punish England ! ’ 

This was evidently an agreed signal between 
them. 

‘ Have you any news of the battery ? ’ 

‘ No. I believe it is going to stop here ; but I have 
learnt that the Wessex regiment of infantry go into 
trenches to-morrow night.’ 

‘Ha! that is news, if it is true; but are you 
certain ? ’ 

‘Quite. An insolent junior officer came up here 


118 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


this morning, and wanted to hire a wagon. It was 
from him that I learnt the news.’ 

‘ And did you lend him a wagon ? ’ 

‘No; I had none.’ 

‘ Fool ! Why didn’t you get one, and send that 
son of yours with it as driver ? It would have been 
worth much to us. You always bungle when left to 
yourself.’ 

‘ And you are always grumbling, Hermann.’ 

‘Do you know what regiment the Wessex relieve?’ 

‘ Yes ; I found that out in the town, and I wrote it 
down. Wait, I must find the paper; it was some 
cursed foreign word. Ah ! here it is. I will spell it. 
V-i-l-t-s-h-i-r-e-s.’ 

‘ I know, Wiltshires is what you mean. When do 
the Wessex leave ? ’ 

‘ I have not found out.’ 

‘Well, try to do so, and telephone; no, show the 
usual signal. There, if I have anything to tell you I 
will telephone. Meanwhile send Philip over with 
Bruno. I must get the news away. Now keep your 
eyes and ears open, and show the danger-signal if 
anything suspicious happens.’ 

The conversation then ceased, and immediately 
Crawford and Vivian went to the Colonel, while 
Arnold remained at the instrument. The news was 
so important that the Brigadier, on hearing it, at once 
went to the front with Colonel Hastings in order 
that the final arrangements might be made to ensure 
the success of their plan. 

Vivian, with a small party, was sent off to the 
lonely farmhouse to make sure of the gentleman in 
the brown felt hat ; while Oliver had full instructions 
respecting the old man, whose name, it appeared, was 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


119 


Mairin. Arnold remained in charge of the telephone, 
and with him were Harris and Skinner. 

Everything that had been overheard on the tele- 
phone was clear except the reference to Bruno. Who 
he was had yet to be found out, and Oliver, armed 
with a pair of powerful field-glasses, kept a constant 
watch on the lonely house. He soon saw the man 
Philip set out, accompanied by the dog, when it at 
once occurred to him that the dog was Bruno. What 
part he played in the scheme was yet to be found 
out. Some two hours later Philip returned by 
himself. 

An hour after sunset the Wessex Fusiliers, in heavy 
marching order, moved off for the trenches. 

Oliver, armed with a revolver, under cover of dark- 
ness posted Crawford and a dozen men in positions 
all round the ruinous house, with orders to stop any 
one leaving, but to let any one pass towards it. 
Crawford was to rush in with his men on hearing 
shots or Oliver’s whistle. 

Then Oliver, with Rock, creeping on hands and 
knees, approached the house, and, relying on the 
absence of the dog, crept up to the door, which was, 
as usual, open. The two had, for the purpose, drawn 
on over their ordinary boots a pair of india-rubber 
trench-boots, which enabled them to move about 
without making the slightest noise. 

Creeping in at the front-door — Rock with a drawn 
bayonet, the only weapon he carried, in his hand — 
they went along the passage, but they could hear 
no sound. They came to a flight of stairs, up which 
they crept, passing a landing, then on till they came 
to an attic in which was a lot of lumber. One corner 
of the roof being blown off, they could see the sky. 


120 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


and Oliver, with the aid of his pocket electric torch, 
examined the attic. Besides the lumber, the only 
thing it contained was a large lamp. 

‘ This is evidently used for signalling,’ he whispered 
to Rock. ‘ We shall be able to see our friend at work 
perhaps.’ 

‘Nail ’im in the act,’ said Rock, feeling the edge 
of his bayonet lovingly. 

‘ Do nothing without my orders ; we have to give 
him time to telephone, remember.’ 

They concealed themselves behind the lumber, and 
waited what seemed to them a very long time, during 
which they occasionally heard movements and voices 
below. Presently a heavy footstep was heard entering 
the house, and the voices of the old man and his son 
became audible. In a few minutes some one began 
ascending the stairs, and Oliver pressed Rock’s arm 
in token that he was to be as still as a mouse. 
They were both well concealed, and did not fear 
discovery. A gleam of light was seen, and then the 
old man, carrying a round stable-lantern, entered the 
attic. He crossed to the far end without looking 
round, took down a wooden shutter that concealed a 
window, and lit the big lamp, which showed a red 
and a green light. For a minute or so he was busy, 
showing the red light and dropping it below the 
window-frame; then he extinguished it and went 
downstairs. 

No sooner had the sound of his footsteps died 
away than Oliver whispered to Rock, ‘Follow me 
quietly.’ 

They crept down the stairs to the ground-level, 
where they heard the old woman bustling about in 
the kitchen. The old man, however, had descended 


THE TRAP IS SET. 


121 


another flight of stairs; and, following him, Oliver 
and Rock beheld a curious sight. 

The old man, his lantern hung on an iron peg, was 
standing with his back turned towards them. He had 
opened what looked like a wall of solid bricks, but 
which Oliver afterwards found was an iron door with 
bricks cemented on it, and from a recess had taken a 
telephone. Almost at the same moment that Oliver 
arrived ^there was a faint tinkle, and then the old 
man, speaking in German, but with a foreign accent, 
was heard to say, ‘ Are you there, Hermann ? Right ! 
The troops have started ; nothing is suspected here ; 
all is quiet. What ? The Colonel is pleased. Good ! 
good ! I shall wait further instructions. I will try 
to find out about the guns, and now the infantry 
have gone may be successful. I rather fancied they 
suspected something. All right. Look out for the 
arrival of the troops; they will be with you in an 
hour, ready to go into the trenches to-morrow night. 
Good-night’ 

He replaced the instrument, closed the door, and 
unhung the lantern. Then he turned to find himself 
face to face with Oliver and Private Rock. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


HOW IT WORKED. 


OR a couple of moments he stood, his face pale, 



X his eyes staring ; then Oliver cried out in 
German, ‘You are my prisoner. Don’t pretend that 
you do not understand me, for I have just heard you 
speaking in German.’ 

‘ Ah-h ! ’ Mairin gave a sort of gasping cry, and 
from under his jacket he drew a long-bladed knife. 

‘ Drop it, or I ’ll shoot you,’ cried Oliver ; but as he 
spoke Mairin dashed the lantern to the ground, and 
his son, who had heard what had taken place, literally 
hurled himself down the few stairs and knocked Rock 
almost breathless. 

‘ You bloomin’ ’eathen ! ’ growled Rock, and there 
ensued a noise of fierce scuffling. 

Oliver felt something swish close to him, and a 
burning pain in his left arm told him he had been 
wounded. He fired twice rapidly, and the flashes of 
his revolver lighting up the pitch darkness showed 
Mairin close to him. Oliver threw his arms round 
him, holding his wrists firmly, and a desperate 
struggle in the darkness ensued. 

‘ Pistol the brute ! ’ cried Rock. ‘ I ’ve got a ’andf ul 
with this fellow;’ and, bumping against Oliver, he 
brought him and the old man to the ground, himself 
falling with his antagonist, so that in a minute all 
four were struggling, fighting, and wrestling on the 
floor in the dark. Both Mairin and his son kept 


HOW IT WORKED. 


123 


shouting out something in Belgian, the while they 
struggled, till a piercing shriek behind Oliver made 
him fear for Bock’s safety. 

‘ Hallo ! are you hurt ? ’ he cried. 

‘ Not much ; it ’s this ’Un what ’s got it in the 
neck.’ 

‘ Don’t kill him if you can help it,’ gasped 'Oliver ; 
for the old man was a wiry customer, and Oliver had 
as much as he could do to prevent himself being 
stabbed. 

Suddenly a light was seen at the top of the stairs, 
and the old woman, screaming out something, appeared. 
Then she rapidly emptied a revolver down into the 
darkness, apparently not caring whether she hit 
friend or foe. 

The old man shouted out, whereupon she coolly 
began reloading ; and, having finished, with a lamp 
in her hand she was about to descend the stairs, when 
a rush of footsteps sounded, and half-a-dozen khaki- 
clad figures appeared. 

* Seize the old woman 1 ’ cried Oliver. ‘ Then come 
down here with the lamp.’ 

There was the noise of a struggle, a series of screams, 
a shot or two, then Crawford’s voice calling out like 
one leading a forlorn hope, ‘ Forward, my lads ; follow 
me ! Our comrades are in danger. Charge bayonets ! ’ 
With a lamp in one hand and a revolver in the other, 
he ran down the stairs. 

‘ There ain’t no need for a fuss,’ cried Bock. * The 
fightin’ ’s over; all we want now is a burial party.’ 

Crawford held aloft his lamp and stared round in 
astonishment. 

Bock, bayonet in hand, was calmly sitting on the 
body of Philip, who was bleeding from a thrust in 


124 


HOW IT WORKED. 


the side, and gasping for breath. Oliver had succeeded 
in mastering Mairin, and was kneeling on his chest, 
holding his two wrists. In a couple of minutes he 
was secured, as was Philip. The old woman’s shots 
had fortunately done no harm, as she had fired at 
random. 

The prisoners were carried upstairs, the younger 
man’s wound bound up, and then, with the old woman, 
they were left under the charge of several men while 
Oliver proceeded to search the house. 

The lumber in the attic was turned over, the 
sleeping-rooms were examined, but nothing incriminat- 
ing was found. In one of the lower rooms was a 
small oaken bureau, which, on being smashed open, 
was found to contain a number of papers. There 
was no time then to examine anything, so Oliver 
pushed them all into his haversack. 

With Rock he next descended to the cellar to 
examine the telephone, and see if he could discover 
anything else. He was busily engaged, when there 
was a low, snarling growl behind him, and the dog 
Bruno, which had appeared apparently from nowhere, 
sprang at him and attempted to fasten its fangs in 
his throat. He had only time to seize it by the long 
hair and attempt to hold it, when it turned its head 
aside and bit through his tunic, all the time wildly 
struggling to get free. Oliver, with his wounded 
arm, could not have kept it off for more than a 
minute, so strong and fierce was it; and did it get 
its long yellow fangs well embedded in the flesh he 
knew it would not let. go in a hurry. He staggered 
back from the snarling beast ; but Rock, always 
ready in an emergency, whipped out his bayonet and 
passed it through the dog’s body. 


HOW IT WORKED. 


125 


Bruno dropped to the ground, yelping and snapping 
savagely at its wound, which was clearly a fatal one. 

‘These ’ere ’Un dogs ain’t been properly trained,’ 
growled Rock. ‘ A-snappin’ an’ bitin’ at English 
people ! I ain’t forgiven ’im for snappin’ at me the 
other mornin’.’ 

‘ Poor brute ! it was only doing its duty,’ said 
Oliver. ‘It is faithful to its own master, anyhow, 
and it shan’t linger in agony;’ and, drawing his 
revolver, he shot it through the head. The dog' 
moving just as he pulled the trigger, the bullet, 
besides passing through its brain, cut through the 
collar, which fell from its neck. 

‘I’ll keep this as a memento,’ said Oliver, and, 
picking it up, he pushed that also into his haversack. 

The search being finished, the wounded Philip was 
laid on a bed, and a man was sent off into the town 
for medical assistance. Mairin and his wife were 
secured and locked in the large upper room, an armed 
sentry being placed on the door. Crawford, with a 
sergeant and six men, was then left in charge, with 
orders to keep the sentries on the alert, and not to 
allow any one to enter the house without a written 
order from Colonel Hastings. 

Oliver had the gash in his arm bound up, and 
then, with the remainder of the men, marched off 
after the regiment, which he found about midnight 

O' o 

billeted just by the brigade headquarters. He at 
once sought the Colonel to make his report, and there 
he found Vivian. 

Colonel Hastings was very much pleased to hear 
of the successful capture of the Mairins. ‘ I believe 
we shall succeed in bringing to book a dangerous 
gang of spies,’ he said. ‘ Many plans have miscarried 


126 


HOW IT WORKED. 


and many lives have been lost of late, the General 
tells me, through news of our movements getting into 
the enemy’s possession. And the chief credit of the 
capture will certainly lie with you two boys. After 
your experience with that scoundrel Loffel at home, 
you ought to be created detectives-in-chief.’ 

‘ What ’s happened to Master Brownhat ? ’ asked 
Oliver. 

‘ Safe under lock and key,^ replied Vivian. 

‘ How did you manage it ? * 

‘Very simply. I marched my men up and sur- 
rounded the farmhouse. I then watched through my 
night-glasses for a signal from Mairin, but could not 
see one. We did see, however, that there was some 
one moving about on the roof of the farmhouse, and 
it is pretty certain that from that elevation Mairin’s 
place could be seen. While our gentleman was on 
the roof a couple of the men quietly forced a 
window, and they and I crept in. The place was 
all in darkness ; but presently we heard some one 
descending the stairs. We waited a few minutes, 
and were following him downstairs to the basement, 
when our man came running back again. We were 
all provided with powerful electric torches, which we 
turned on to him. In a second almost he had whipped 
out a revolver and fired, wounding one of the men in 
the shoulder ; but that was his last shot, for with a 
stick I was carrying I gave him one on the wrist that 
made him yell out, and knocked the revolver flying. 
Next moment we had him fast. I told him in German 
that he was my prisoner; but he never opened his 
mouth, so we marched him off, and the Colonel has 
seen him comfortably lodged. I left a party in 
possession of the farmhouse, in which we found two 


HOW IT WORKED. 


127 


old servants, whom we also put under arrest. As we 
were leaving a dog came along towards the house, 
and I tried to catch it. It snapped at me, however, 
and in the darkness I lost it. I wonder now whether 
it was the Bruno those men spoke of.’ 

‘Was it the big, upstanding animal that we saw at 
the hpuse in the lane ? ’ asked Oliver. 

‘ Something like it, as far as I could see.’ 

‘ I shouldn’t be at all surprised if it were the same. 
It certainly was a most intelligent brute, and perhaps, 
finding things were wrong with Brownhat, it hurried 
off to Mairin. I was really sorry it was killed, though 
it would certainly have done for me if Bock hadn’t 
come to my assistance. And that reminds me that 
my bullet cut its collar in two, and I kept it as a 
memento of a faithful servant, though only a dog ; ’ 
and Oliver took the collar, a massive leather and 
brass affair, from his haversack. 

He handed it to Vivian, who was looking at the 
way in which the bullet had cut the leather and bent 
the brass, when his eye caught sight of what seemed 
like a movable plate on the brass which the bullet 
had bent. ‘ Hallo ! ’ he said ; ‘ what ’s this ? ’ 

‘ Looks like a sort of locket affair,’ replied Oliver, 
greatly interested. 

Instantly the two subalterns and the Colonel were 
picking away at it with their penknives, when pre- 
sently a lid was forced open, and in a little recess a 
tiny scrap of paper was seen. 

‘ By Jingo ! I believe we ’ve made another discovery, 
boys ! ’ cried the Colonel. 

‘ There ’s no end to Hunnish ingenuity,’ said Oliver, 
and, picking out the bit of paper, he handed it to his 
father. 


128 


HOW IT WORKED. 


On unfolding it, the Colonel saw it was covered 
with writing in the German character. ‘Here, you 
boys, I must depend on you to decipher this,’ he said ; 
‘ my education was, I am afraid, neglected.’ 

Oliver and Vivian carefully flattened out the paper, 
and read it together, each helping the other. 

‘This is the most important news of all,’ said 
Vivian presently; ‘it’s from the lieutenant-colonel of 
the 8th Prussian Grenadiers. Listen ; I ’ll translate it : 

‘ “ Dear Hermann, — Your news is most important. 
We know exactly the position of the Wiltshire regi- 
ment, and when the Territorials take over their 
trenches to-morrow night we shall make an attack. 
We shall surprise their front trench, and then advance 
in force quietly, fill the trench with our men, 
make a sudden attack down the communication 
trenches, and with machine-guns clear the support 
and reserve trenches. These carried, a division will 
advance and make a big eflfort to push right through 
and entirely break the British line. I shall report 
your services in the right quarter, and if we succeed 
high reward will be both yours and mine. — Yours, 
“M. VON Schweiniken, 
Lieutenant-Colonel, 

8th Pr. Grenadier Guard RegV ’ 

‘ The scoundrels ! ’ cried Colonel Hastings. ‘ Thank 
God we’ve found this out! It might have meant 
a most disastrous defeat for us. I must see the 
General, for not a moment must be lost in laying 
our plans to defeat this attempt. Come, boys, your 
evidence will be wanted. Guard that paper as your 
life, Vivian. All our brains must get to work to 
checkmate this new piece of Prussian rascality.’ 



O.H. 


Mairin gave s sore of gasping cry, and from under his jacket 
he drew a long-bladed knife. 

I Page 122. 





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CHAPTER XVII. 


THE BITER BIT. 

T WENTY-FOUR hours later, in a certain portion 
of the British trenches, great excitement pre- 
vailed. Standing oh the fire-step, straining every 
nerve to see through the darkness, were a number 
of the Wessex Fusiliers. Colonel Hastings, Oliver, 
Vivian, and Captain Lindsay were amongst the 
officers, and Rock was one of the few chosen men. 
The trench was only lightly held, however, old and 
tried veterans of the Wiltshires being the principal 
occupants. 

During the day a plan had been formulated and 
perfected. At the usual time in the evening a picked 
party of the Wessex had filed along the com- 
munication-trenches into the front one. Colonel 
Hastings had begged hard to be allowed to accom- 
pany the party; and though the General told him 
commanding officers were strictly forbidden to expose 
themselves unnecessarily, the Colonel had at last 
carried his point. 

‘ I have trained my lads so that they should stand 
the supreme test of keeping cool and doing their duty 
under fire," he had pleaded. * My presence will give 
them confidence; and, besides, I am anxious to see 
for myself how they behave." 

‘As you like. Colonel; only, mind I have warned 
you." 

During the last few days things had been very 

O.H. I 


\ 


130 


THE BITER BIT. 


quiet on the Wiltshires front; there had been occa- 
sional sniping, but neither side had been in any way 
active. The Wessex had, apparently, relieved the 
Wiltshires without suffering any loss, though some 
promiscuous firing had taken place that caused certain 
of the ' new hands ’ to feel a little jumpy. 

Presumably, then, things had settled down in the 
usual way in the British trenches. Some men had 
been told every now and then to fire their rifles into 
the darkness, at nothing, as men are wont to do from 
sheer nerve tension the first time they find themselves 
in pitch darkness, standing on the fire-step of a 
trench, staring over towards the enemy trendies, 
perhaps only some eighty yards away. Brother 
Fritz probably chuckled, and pictured to himself the 
sentries’ comrades asleep in the diigouts, and not a 
soul among them ever dreaming of the surprise in 
store for them. 

Had he, however, seen to right and left silent figures 
crawling out over the parapet with sand-bags, with 
which small redoubts were being made; had he seen 
the support and communication trenches literally 
packed with men, all sitting down in absolute 
silence, not able to move to right or left, but 
waiting the word to commence work, perhaps he 
would not have waited so complacently for the 
signal to move. 

The night was dark, and everything was in favour 
of the Bodies, had only the secret of their little 
scheme not leaked out. 

‘It’s jumpy work, this waiting,’ said Oliver to 
Vivian as, with their heads just raised above the 
parapet, they stood staring and listening. 

Rock, who was never far away from his masters, 


THE BITER BIT. 


131 


grinned cheerfully. ‘I guess it’ll be a bit more 
jumpy for them ’Uns/ he said. ‘I ’ope they’ll reach 
the trench, for I ain’t ’ad an opportunity o’ gettin’ 
’ome with the baynit since the scrap at Atbara.’ 

‘ They ’ll reach the trench right enough,’ answered 
Vivian ; ‘ and, remember, you ’re to retire directly we 
do. You know the plan ; don’t run your head into 
unnecessary danger.’ 

‘ That ’s all right, sir. I can rumble a ruse as well 
as any. one.’ 

The nonchalance of Rock was contagious ; and 
though amongst those in the trench there was a 
feeling of impatience, of strained anxiety, there was 
certainly no fear. 

Presently Oliver, who was listening with his ear 
pressed against the parapet, thought he heard move- 
ments out in the dark. He whispered to Vivian and 
the Colonel, who also thought they heard something 
like the stealthy crawling forward of a number of 
men. Then an occasional snip, as of some one cutting 
the barbed wire, was heard, and it was pretty clear 
that the Bodies had started their surprise attempt. 

Whispered instructions were passed down the trench, 
and every one was warned not to fire until two blasts 
on a whistle were heard. 

According to a prearranged plan, some one started 
a gramophone, and the enemy no doubt laughed in- 
wardly to think what a rough awakening was in store 
for the ‘ English swine.’ 

Notwithstanding, it was a most anxious time, and 
by allowing the enemy to cut the wire entanglements 
great risks were being taken that nothing but ulti- 
mate complete success would justify. 

Presently through the darkness occasional shadowy 


132 


THE BITER BIT. 


figures were seen moving about, and Colonel Hastings 
thought that the moment for action had arrived. He 
blew two sharp notes on his whistle, and instantly a 
hundred vicious spits of flame spurted out all along 
the trench and a volley rang forth. A hoarse shqut 
followed, and there was a rush of heavy footsteps. 
Rapid fire was the order, and the volleys crashed out. 
The enemy, however, being so near, in a minute had 
reached the front-line trench, and had hurled them- 
selves over the parapet into it, many meeting death 
on the bayonets of the defenders. For a moment or 
two a hideous combat was waged in the darkness, 
bayonet and clubbed rifle being used with deadly 
effect. 

Three burly Germans dropped into the trench 
almost on top of Oliver, one firing his rifle so close 
to him that his face was burnt. A bullet from his 
revolver dropped one ; but the other two made a rush 
at him, when Rock bayoneted one in the throat. As 
the other turned to run, Vivian shot him through the 
heart. The enemy came pouring into the trench, 
though, and bombs were hurled from above. Oliver, 
Vivian, and Rock were again engaged, and moved 
away to their left, where they just caught a glimpse 
of Colonel Hastings struggling with a gigantic German 
officer. Rocks bayonet disposed of him; whereupon 
Colonel Hastings gave the three arranged blasts on 
his whistle, and those in the advanced trench made 
for the communication - trenches, into which they 
crowded, leaving their first trench in the enemy’s 
hands. 

Then a rocket was sent up by the enemy, and 
dozens of voices were heard shouting that the trench 
was taken, and the supports were to rush forward. 


THE BITER BIT. 


133 


Another three blasts on Colonel Hastings’s whistle 
were the signal for every Englishman to retire, then 
one long blast, and from the extreme left a machine- 
gun opened fire, sweeping the trench with a hail of 
lead. Some of the traverses had been removed, and 
the bullets cut through the enemy, slaying almost 
every man. Colonel Hastings gave another signal, 
and a dozen Verrey lights flared out, making the 
whole scene as light as day. 

‘ Forward, now, my lads ! ’ cried the Colonel ; ‘ clear 
the trench ! ’ and into it they swept. Those of the 
enemy left alive fought stubbornly, but they were 
either bayoneted or shot. The men, mostly of the 
Wiltshires, having regained the trench, mounted the 
fire-step, and opened with rapid fire on a dense mass of 
men seen approaching. They were in such numbers, 
though, that they would have broken down all opposi- 
tion ; but, with an appalling crash from either side, half- 
a-dozen concealed machine-guns opened, catching the 
advancing Germans in an enfilade fire. The hurri- 
cane of lead cut through and through them, literally 
mowing them down, while from their front a sheet 
of rifle-fire smote them. The advance came to a stop ; 
but the second line caught up with the remnants of 
the first, forcing it farther forward, until the exter- 
minating machine-guns swept that away. The third 
wave, advancing with less confidence, broke into 
a sort of half-hearted shout, and pressed forward. 
They in turn were caught up in the hail of lead, 
and for a few moments staggered ; then they threw 
themselves on the ground, and opened fire with their 
rifles. They had, however, no chance ; the machine- 
guns searched the ground, and they had to lie perfectly 
prone to secure any chance of escape. 


134 


THE BITER BIT. 


The officer in command of the Wiltshires pushed 
his way to Colonel Hastings. ‘We must pitchfork 
the beggars back to their trenches, sir,’ he said. 

‘ I ’m going to loose my boys at them with the 
bayonet.’ 

‘ I ’m with you,’ replied the Colonel, and in a minute 
or so Wiltshires and Wessex were racing towards the 
defeated Huns. These had now to get on their feet 
and fight for their lives or be trampled under foot 
and bayoneted. Many were slain, many surrendered, 
and in two minutes the few survivors were flying 
back towards their trenches, pursued by the fire of 
the victorious British. 

The Wessex, in their inexperience, would have gone 
right on to the German trenches ; but the wily Wilt- 
shires checked their impetuosity, and all returned 
safely. 

‘Now, Colonel,’ said the Wiltshire officer, ‘we must 
repair the wire entanglements. Brother Fritz won’t 
lie down quietly under such a smashing blow. We 
shall hear again from him before the night’s out, or 
I ’m a Dutchman. If you ’d like your men to get 
a little experience in barbed-wire repairing, now ’s 
their chance.’ 

‘ I should indeed ; ’ and, crawling quietly out, some 
forty or fifty men were soon working for their lives 
repairing the barbed wire. This was the most trying 
part of the night’s work. Very soon the enemy 
guessed what was going on, and opened a hot fire 
from rifles and machine-guns. They sent up flares, 
and then every man had to fling himself face down- 
ward flat on the ground among the dead and wounded 
Germans. The deadly gr-r-r of the machine-guns 
was followed by a blast of lead, and the motionless 


TPIE BITER BIT. 135 

men felt their hair rising until the flares burnt out 
and the machine-guns ceased. 

‘Weird business this, Vivian,’ whispered Oliver; ‘a 
new experience.’ 

‘ And a deucedly unpleasant one,’ muttered Vivian. 
‘ I, for one, shall be glad to get back to the trench.’ 

It was the fact of so many Germans lying on the 
ground that saved the British from heavy casualties, 
for when the flares went up it was impossible to 
distinguish dead or dying Germans from motionless 
Britishers. 

At last the task was performed, and the men began 
to creep back to their trenches. As Oliver and Vivian 
were following the men, in the darkness they kicked 
against a man, who uttered a groan. 

‘ Sorry ! ’ muttered Oliver. 

‘ Don’t leave me here to die slowly,’ said a voice 
in German ; ‘ put your bayonet through me or get 
me medical aid.’ 

‘ Where are you hurt ? ’ inquired Oliver. 

‘ Shot through both legs,’ groaned the man. 

‘Can you give a hand, Vivian*?’ asked Oliver. 

‘ Leave ’im where ’e is,’ growled Rock, who, as 
ever, was close to his masters. 

‘ That remark is unworthy of an old soldier,’ said 
Vivian. ‘ Give us a hand. Rock.’ 

But at that moment another flare went up, and all 
who were not safely back in the trench had again to 
throw themselves flat. Once more the machine-guns 
rattled out; but from the British trenches they got 
as good as they sent ; and when the fire ceased, Oliver, 
Vivian, and Rock, the last-named grumbling unceas- 
ingly, got the wounded German into the British trench. 

‘ Hallo, boys ! ’ said Colonel Hastings, who saw 


136 


THE BITER BIT. 


them clambering over the parapet ; ‘I’m glad to see 
you safe. But what hsive you got here ? ’ 

‘A wounded ’Un, sir/ growled Rock, ‘what ought 
to ha’ been left where ’e was if all I ’ve ’eard about 
’em is true/ 

A couple of lanterns being obtained, it was seen 
that the wounded German was an officer, evidently 
of high rank. 

‘ It seems we Ve made an important capture/ said 
Oliver to the German. ‘I thought you were a 
private.’ 

‘And you took all that trouble with one you 
thought a common soldier ? ’ 

‘A common soldier, as you call him, is as much to 
us as an officer.’ 

‘ I always said you English were fools.’ 

‘ It ’s our idea of playing the game.’ 

‘ Bah ! you ’ll find war is no game before you ’ve 
done with it. You English have played games until 
you look upon everything as games and sport. We 
shall convince you some day that war is grim 
earnest.’ 

‘You’ve been trying to do that for some time now, 
but it hasn’t met with much success.’ 

‘ We should have given you a lesson to-night had 
we not been fooled. We were expecting to meet 
only Territorials ; but some one betrayed our plans.’ 

‘ Ah, playing with edged tools is dangerous work. 
You thought to trap us, but fell into a trap yourselves, 
I ’m afraid.’ 

The wounded man ground his teeth in rage. 
‘ Some day your regular troops will come to an end, 
and your Territorials will have to face us ; then you 
will see/ 


THE BITER BIT. 


137 


‘ We have seen ; we are Territorials.’ 

‘Are you really the Wessex Fusiliers V 
‘ We are ; but how did you know that ? ’ 

‘ That I refuse to say,’ replied the German. ‘ But 
are you really Territorials ? ’ 

‘ Sir, when a British officer makes a statement you 
may believe it,’ said Oliver haughtily. 

‘ By the way,’ asked Vivian, ‘ whom have we the 
honour of conversing with ? ’ 

‘ I am Colonel von Schweiniken, of the 8th Prussian 
Grenadier Guard Begiment.’ 

Vivian whistled. ‘By Jove!’ he said, ‘this is a 
coincidence with a vengeance.’ 

‘ What do you mean ? ’ asked the German. 

‘ I fancy I had the pleasure of reading a confidential 
little note of yours the other night.’ 

The wounded man glared savagely at the two 
young officers. ‘ A thousand devils 1 ’ he muttered ; 

‘ he can’t have betrayed us ? If he has ’ Then 

he added suspiciously, ‘And you two, you speak 
German almost like natives 1 Who are you ? Are 
you Englishmen?’ 

‘ Assuredly.’ 

‘And yet so few of your countrymen speak our 

language! I am muddled — faint — I’ Returned 

a shade paler, and fainted from loss of blood. Brandy 
was immediately given him, and his wounds, which, 
though severe, were not dangerous, were bound up. 
Presently a stretcher was obtained, and he took his 
place in the line of men being carried to the rear, his 
last words being, ‘ Gott strafe England ! ’ 

‘ Pleasant old gent ! ’ said Oliver. 

‘ A good modern German,’ replied Vivian ; ‘ but his 
capture is important. We shall probably now be 


138 


THE BITER BIT. 


able to bring their guilt home to all that amiable 
gang of spies.’ 

Soon after that the Germans opened a heavy 
artillery fire on the trenches, and all had to take 
shelter in the dugouts. The shells fell in great 
numbers, literally blowing to pieces a number of the 
dead and wounded Germans lying in the ‘ no man’s 
land ’ between the trenches. Their screams and 
groans caused many a British Tommy, who had 
never flinched at the dangers he had passed through 
that night, to stop his ears S with his fingers. 

Then, acme of madness, the enemy actually launched 
another infantry attack, which was literally swept 
away, not a man passing the British wire entangle- 
ments. 

‘ By Jove ! the Boches are, indeed, angry to-night,’ 
said the officer in command of the Wiltshires. ‘ They 
never chuck away a whole battalion unless they’re 
very cross. Some one will have to toe the line over 
the bad success of this night’s work if he hasn’t 
already answered the last call.’ 

‘ I fancy one of the promoters of this abortive 
strafing expedition is in our hands,’ said Oliver ; ‘ but 
it ’s a long tale, and I ’ll tell you some other time.’ 

‘ Come into my dugout, the two of you, and spin 
me the yarn. I ’ll just give my subalterns the tip to 
keep their eyes open; but we sha’n’t be disturbed 
any more to-night, I expect. Even Brother Fritz 
must realise that he ’s lost this rubber, anyway.’ 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


FEITZ RETALIATES. 


HE day following the abortive attack of the 



A Germans was dull and drizzling. As soon as 
it was light several men of the Wessex poked their 
heads up over the parapet to view the scene of the 
struggle. It was a terrible sight. Dead and wounded 
Germans lay in heaps in every conceivable attitude 
of human agony, weapons and accoutrements were 
scattered about, while every now and then a head or 
an arm would move, and a piteous cry for Wasser 
(water) would rouse the listeners to pity. 

Hardly a minute elapsed, however, before shots 
rang out, and several of the Wessex had narrow 
escapes, while one poor lad fell back into his chum s 
arms dead, a bullet in his brain. The Wessex were 
learning that the German sniper is always on the 
alert. 

A dozen shots replied from the British trench ; but 
there was nothing visible at which to aim, and 
probably no harm was done. 

The officers went along the trenches, warning the 
men on no account to expose so much as a finger, and 
showing them how to use the periscopes. By means 
of these it was found that no fewer than eight 
hundred German bodies lay in front' of the British 
trenches. 

‘They've paid a heavy price for their attempt, 
Oliver,’ said Vivian. 


140 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 


‘True; and it seems horrible to leave the poor 
wounded wretches out there to die.’ 

‘ What can we do ? If any of our men ventured 
above the parapet they ’d have a machine-gun trained 
on them in a minute.’ 

‘That’s so, and that’s what makes this war so 
terrible. But the Germans have set the fashion, and 
we can do nothing but follow it.’ 

‘ I wonder ’ow long we ’re agoin’ to be in this ’ere 
sewer ? ’ growled a voice behind them ; and, turning, 
they saw Rock. 

‘The last time I was in the trenches I did six 
days,’ answered Oliver cheerfully; ‘but I got off 
extra light. Many of the men did twenty and 
twenty-five days right oflf, and that, too, in mid- 
winter, with freezing water up above the knees.’ 

‘ More fools the men to stick it,’ growled Rock. 

‘And what would you have done had you been 
there?’ 

‘ Filled my magazine, an’ ’ad one last bu^^’st at the 
Bodies. If I could ha’ killed one or two I ’d ha’ died 
’appy. That ’s ’ow I ’d ha’ got out o’ water up to my 
waist.’ 

‘ Above the knees, I said.’ 

‘ Well, an’ ain’t the waist above the knees, sir ? 
Any water ’s bad enough, but trench water ’s the 
worst o’ all.’ 

‘You’ll probably know more about this sort of 
warfare before the campaign is over.’ 

‘ Ah ! I dare say I shall find some way to make 
things comfortable. Any’ow, I’ll try an’ make the 
’Uns opposite me more uncomfortable. But this ’ere 
ain’t sojerin’. It’s navvyin’, that’s what it is; an’ 
I shall very soon get fed up with it.’ 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 


141 


He went farther along ,the trench ; but, being an 
old soldier, he took particular good care to keep his 
head well down, and run no unnecessary risks. 

The trenches were about four feet wide at the top, 
and from six to eight feet deep. At the bottom they 
were narrower, as the fire platform, some two feet 
wide and two high, was cut out of it. The front of 
the trench was banked up with earth and sand-bags, 
through which were numerous loopholes, and at the 
back was more heaped earth, forming the parados, 
which served to protect the occupants of the trench 
from the efiect of shells exploding behind them. 

The trenches were serpentine or zigzag, and at 
intervals were traverses, or walls of earth, which, in 
case of a shell falling in the trench, confined the 
efiect of it to only a small portion of the trench, and 
also served as a protection against enfilade fire. The 
trenches were boarded, and numerous shelter dugouts 
had been constructed, these being holes, commonly 
called ‘funk-holes,’ dug in the front wall of the 
trench, and roofed in, and having additional protec- 
tion against shell-fire. 

The majority of the men were off duty, there being 
sentinels continually standing on the fire-platform, 
watching with the aid of periscopes the enemy’s 
trenches. In case of an alarm or at the daily ‘ stand 
to,’ every one manned the fire-platform. 

The Wessex were thus variously engaged, when 
suddenly a screaming overhead was heard, and a 
high-explosive shell fell with a thud some thirty feet 
behind the trench. It exploded with a deafening 
roar, making a great cloud of black smoke. Those 
on duty continued their work, and in a few minutes 
across came another huge shell, falling a bit farther 


142 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 


wide. Then several arrived qne after another, and it 
seemed as if the enemy were in grim earnest. So 
it proved, for the bombardment got heavier and 
heavier, ‘Jack Johnsons,’ ‘ Coal-boxes,’ and ‘ Screaming 
Sues ’ dropping round with a frequency that was 
appalling. The men, with the exception of the 
sentries, were ordered to shelter in their dugouts, as 
several casualties had occurred, one shell having fallen 
right in the trench, causing considerable damage. 

As the day wore on the bombardment increased still 
more, and the officers grew a little nervous as to how 
their men, fresh out from England, would stand it. 

Vivian and the other old soldiers — for any man 
who has survived for six months the conditions at 
the front becomes an ‘old soldier’ — made frequent 
visits to the few sentries who had to remain on duty; 
but the gallant fellows, no matter what they thought 
of the terrible trial to which they were being sub- 
jected, were outwardly calm and keenly alert. They 
had elected to give their lives, if need be, for their 
country, and when they were put to the test — a 
severe one for young soldiers — not one was found 
wanting. 

Harris was the only subaltern besides Vivian and 
Oliver who was in the trench, and Vivian was curious 
to see how this purely theoretical young man would 
take it. He found him sitting on the fire-step with 
his back to the wall of the trench, smoking his pipe 
and reading from a small pocket edition. 

‘ Hallo, young man ! ’ cried Vivian, ‘ you seem to be 
taking it pretty quietly.’ 

‘I’ve just been all round my sentries,* replied 
Harris, looking up apologetically. ' ‘ They ’re all on 
the alert, and I ’ve had my eye glued to the periscope 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 


143 


till I felt it would grow there. There ’s nothing very 
edifying in watching the German shells smashing in 
among their own dead, so I just thought I ’d have ten 
minutes’ smoke and a read.’ 

‘ What ’s the book ? ’ 

‘ One of my old friends, Scott’s Lady of the Lake. 
I ’d just got to my very favourite part of my 
favourite canto, where Roderick Dhu reveals his 
identity to Fitz-James. You know the words, I dare 
say. I never read them without feeling a thrill : 

Fitz-James was brave : — thougli to his heart 
The life-blood thrilled with sudden start, 

He manned himself with dauntless air, 

Returned the Chief his haughty stare, 

His back against a rock he bore, 

And firmly placed his foot before : — 

“Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly 
From its firm base as soon as I.”’ 

*And then he filled his pipe with Chairman, and 
sat down to enjoy himself while “Jack Johnsons” 
dropped all round him — eh ? ’ 

Harris looked up in surprise a moment ; then, posi- 
tively blushing, he said, ‘ I say, old chap, don’t pull 
my leg. I don’t pretend to be a warrior. I ’m only 
a would-be scholar in uniform. I’m an admirer of 
fine language, I think, more than of gallant deeds. I 
worship Scott for his diction.’ 

* And emulate the deeds of his heroes.’ 

* My dear chap, I ’ll confess to you that I ’m in a 
veritable funk, and if I could I ’d run away.’ 

‘I know the way you sort of fellows run; it’s 
always towards the enemy. If we’ve many funks 
like you in the regiment, Harris, we shall have a fine 
crop of V.C.’s and D.S.O.’s before the war’s over;* 


144 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 


and, leaving the plucky sub. all unconscious of his 
pluck, Vivian returned to his own men. 

The Wessex came through the passive ordeal of 
enduring a terrific strafing, without being able to fire 
a shot in return, with flying colours ; and when sud- 
denly the bombardment stopped, and the men were 
warned to man the trenches to meet the inevitable 
attack, there was fierce joy in their hearts as cut-offs 
were opened, and it was seen that bayonets were 
securely fixed. 

In a few seconds the Germans were seen scrambling 
out of their trenches ; but they did not advance in 
that wild rush that characterises the British attack. 
They seemed to look to right and left as though to 
assure themselves that Hans and Fritz weren’t hang- 
ing back, then in an ambling trot they came forward 
shouting their guttural Hochs. 

The British held their fire until the enemy had got 
well out of his trench; then, taking deliberate aim, 
they opened, picking ofif the foremost men. The 
gaps were filled, and on pressed the others, until the 
British had taken such a toll of them that they came 
to a stop. The second line, however, caught up with 
them, and the whole surged forward, while yet a 
third line was seen pushing up in support. Then 
the British gave them ‘ten rounds rapid,’ and the 
machine-guns got into play. Still the Germans 
pushed doggedly on until they were stumbling over 
the corpses of their comrades killed on the previous 
night. The British wire entanglement had been 
battered down by the intense bombardment during 
the day ; but, in spite of that, not one of the enemy 
ever reached the British trenches, the intensity of 
the fire literally sweeping them away. 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 


145 


The attack ceased as suddenly as it had begun, 
and the survivors retreated into their trenches, having 
added some hundred or more to the heaps of dead 
already cumbering the ground. The whole affair had 
been madness, just pig-headed German obstinacy, and 
it had ended in disaster. No sooner had the attack 
died out than the British artillery opened fire on 
the enemy’s trenches, and for half-an-hour they must 
have had a terrible time. 

‘ It ’s a weird thing, this modern war,’ said Harris 
to Oliver when the German attack had ceased. ‘ It 
seems to me that, in these days, attacks have no 
earthly chance of success; and to stand in your 
trench and shoot down men like . this seems a bit 
cold-blooded.’ 

‘We shall have to face the German fire when we 
attack,’ replied Oliver; ‘only we put a bit more go 
into it.’ 

• ‘I wonder what I should do if I had to lead an 
attack over that death-trap,’ mused Harris, looking 
through a loophole at the corpse-strewn ‘ no man’s 
land.’ 

‘ Be first at the enemy’s trenches,’ replied Oliver. 

‘ I wonder ! ’ again said Harris. 

That night the Wiltshires left the trenches, and 
the remainder of the Wessex came in. 

Crawford and Skinner were very much disap- 
pointed at not having been in the scrap; but, as 
Oliver said, their turn would come ; there was enough 
and to spare for all. 

On the following day Oliver, Vivian, Crawford, 
Rock, and several others had to leave the trenches to 
attend the court-martial on the captured spies. 

There were a number of other witnesses, amongst 

o.n. j 


146 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 


them a good many officers who testified to having 
often seen the dog Bruno in the British trenches. It 
made itself quite friendly, and would stay for several 
hours, 4nd then in the darkness jump away out of 
the trench, sometimes going towards the German 
lines, sometimes towards the British rear. No one, 
of course, ever dreamt that the animal was intelligent 
enough, or had been trained, to be a messenger 
between the spies and the enemy, but such un- 
doubtedly had been the case. 

Amongst the papers which Oliver had found in 
Mairin’s desk were a number of incriminating letters 
that proved over and over again the guilt of both 
him, his wife, and their son Philip. They had been 
in the pay of Germany long before the war, and had 
doubtless been the cause of dozens, perhaps hundreds, 
of people having lost their lives. The man Hermann 
was simply a German agent, resident since the war 
in Belgium. The Mairins gathered news and com- 
municated it to him, the telephone being but one of 
the methods used. The dog bore letters to and from 
the German trenches, and so a regular system of 
espionage had been established. 

Hermann maintained a sullen and impudent silence, 
but old Mairin, seeing the chains of evidence surely 
bringing him to his doom, at last gave in and made 
a full confession; whereupon Hermann cursed him 
furiously, and would have flown at him and strangled 
him had the escort not intervened. 

Philip — whose wound, though a bad one, was not 
dangerous — was able to attend the court-martial, and 
took his place with the others. All were found 
guilty, the three men being sentenced to be shot, 
while the old woman and the two servants belonoinfi: 

O O 


FRITZ RETALIATES. 147 

to the farmhouse inhabited by Hermann were sen- 
tenced to various terms of imprisonment. 

The trial lasted two days, and on the day following 
the promulgation of the death sentence it was duly 
carried out. The firing-party was drawn from a 
regiment that had seen some ten months’ service at 
the front, Oliver and Vivian thanking their stars that 
they had not got to be present. They were doomed 
to hear all the details, though, for Private Rock made 
it his business to see the thing through. 

‘Sech squeamishness,* Rock complained to his 
young masters, ‘I surely don’t understand. D’ye 
think they cared when our lads went down through 
their dirty spy-tricks ? D’ ye think they ’d ha’ ’esitated 
to ha’ cut our throats in that bloomin’ cellar when we 
arrested ’em ? I don’t think. And then, oh Lor’, they 
must be tried an’ judged as if they was lords an’ 
dukes ; an’ if they ’ve got to go through it, no one 
likes to see it or ’ear o’ it. Bally rot I calls it ; an’ 
whenever there ’s a dirty spy agoin’ to be shot I ’m 
there to see it, ’specially if any of ’em, like that Philip 
feller, ’as tried to do it on Dick Rock.’ 


CHAPTER XIX. 


IN ‘PLUG STKEET. 


i'TER four days in the trenches, during which 



time their casualties were very light, the 
Wessex were moved back in reserve, and put in a 
good bit of drill, varied by digging and transport- 
work. Then came another move, and the regiment 
was ordered to Messines, whither they started* next 
day in pouring rain. They had a very long tramp 
in heavy marching order across a most difficult 
country, and under very trying circumstances; but 
the men stuck cheerfully to their task, and whistled 
or sang, or played on mouth-organs until they had 
only sufficient energy left to plug steadily on. 

Vivian looked carefully after his men to see there 
were no stragglers, and noticed once or twice a young 
and handsome lad named Travers, who was clearly 
distressed, but who was making strenuous efforts to 
keep up. Travers had, an elder brother in the 
regiment, both being in the same platoon. There 
was a good fifteen years difference in their ages; 
and they were most dissimilar in looks, the younger 
Travers being fair and slim, of medium height, and a 
merry, light-hearted youth, while the elder, a quiet, 
reserved man, was broad, dark, and well over six 
feet high. Yet between the brothers a deep affection 
seemed to exist, the elder one watching over the 
younger more as a father might than as a brother. 

Towards the end of the march Vivian noticed that 


IN 'PLUG STREET.’ 


149 


the elder Travers was carrying his brother’s pack 
and rifle as well as helping the lad along; and 
presently a comrade was carrying packs and rifles, 
while the elder brother had the younger one on his 
back. 

‘ Are you done up, youngster ? ’ asked Vivian 
kindly. 

‘ I ’m all right, sir,’ answered the youth in a weary 
tone. ‘ I can get along. — Let me down, George.’ 

‘ That ’s all right, Harry ; I can manage you ; you ’re 
only a featherweight,’ said the elder. Then to Vivian, 
‘ He ’s stuck it, sir, till he kept stumbling and falling. 
His training has been softer than mine. I ’ll see to 
him.’ 

Vivian was touched by this sign of brotherly love. 
Soon afterwards .they arrived at the end of their 
journey. 

In pitch darkness they reached the spot where they 
had to billet, and the majority of the men, being as 
cheerful as ever, began cracking jokes about their 
billets, hoping ' the sheets would be well aired.’ 

Their cheerfulness met with some reward, for the 
men already there had prepared for the arrival of 
the Wessex. Barns, stables, houses, all were made 
ready for the new-comers; and cheery fires were 
burning, clean straw to lie on had been provided, and, 
best of all, a good hot supper, with a tot of rum all 
round, was waiting for the boys as they came in. 

The men already in the village were Kegulars, 
and belonged to a battalion with a glorious history, 
on whose colours were emblazoned a score of battle 
honours. They were waiting to give the weary 
Wessex a cheer as they trudged in, and many a 
Regular took his Territorial comrade’s rifle, and. 


150 


IN ‘PLUG STREET.’ 


placing a hand under the other’s arm, cried, ‘Come 
on, chummy ; supper ’s pipin’ ’ot, and I ’ve just got a 
box of fags from ’ome. We’ll dry your wet togs 
round the fire while you doss on the cleanest bit of 
straw I ’ve seen out ’ere yet ; ’ and the two would go 
off as though they had been friends all their life. 

The Regular officers met the Territorial officers in 
the same spirit. They were quartered in an old mill, 
and had prepared a welcome for the Wessex. 

‘I like this dry, dusty feeling,’ said Oliver as a 
party of them crossed the mill to the great room at 
the back used as a dining-room. 

‘Yes, it will be all right, especially if the flour 
sticks to us in our drenched state,’ said Vivian ; ‘ we 
shall turn into paste and adhere to all we touch.’ 

But there was no fear of that. Dry clothes were 
lent to the officers, and then they all assembled in the 
warm and well-lighted dining-room, and sat down to 
a dinner, at which the abundance of the food and the 
hearty good-fellowship more than made up for lack 
of variety in the menu. There was some excellent 
wine, however, and a merry evening was spent, that 
was remembered in the Wessex for many a day. 
That is the spirit of comradeship which prevails 
amongst all branches at the front. 

The next night the Wessex reached their final 
destination. It was getting dusk when they marched 
through what remained of Ypres, and the picture 
was one of utter desolation. The gaunt, shattered 
skeletons of the magnificent old Cloth Hall and the 
fine Cathedral stood out sharply against the sky ; 
here and there the glow of smouldering embers from 
fires recently caused by incendiary bombs could be 
dimly seen. Great shell-holes pitted the streets; of 


IN ‘PLUG STREET.’ 


151 


glass there was none, the houses having been shattered 
by shells. Many of the shops had shutters up, but 
the doors had been smashed or ripped down for fire- 
wood. But the most awesome thing of all was the 
silence. No sound was heard but the tramp of feet 
upon the ashes in the street or the sighing of the 
wind through the shell-riven houses; and Tommy, 
curiously sensitive in some ways, hushed his voice, 
glanced furtively to right and left, and, hurrying on, 
was heartily glad to be once more clear of Ypres, a 
veritable City of the Dead. 

It was again dark when the Wessex reached the 
end of their journey, and thankful enough the men 
were to turn in. 

Next morning, bright and sunny once more, away 
they went to Ploegsteert, which Tommy calls ‘ Plug 
Street,’ and is proud of, for almost every foot of it 
has seen fighting. It has been held and paid for 
with the blood of heroes, who lie in the little 
cemeteries in the clearings, and after the war it will 
be one of the most celebrated spots along the whole 
western front. 

‘Plug Street’ is really a wood, about two miles 
long by one broad, and is the only bit of woodland 
along the whole of the then British line. 

Oliver and Vivian were marching side by side as 
they went up to ‘Plug Street,’ and as neither had 
been in that district before they looked curiously 
about them. The country is one of the flattest, 
wettest, and most monotonous in Flanders. Long 
lines of poplar-trees stretch as far as the horizon; 
dikes intersect dikes ; red roofs, church spires, mostly 
battered, and factory chimneys abound ; and around, 
above, beneath is mud, mud, mud ! 


152 


IN ‘PLUG STREET.’ 


Two big hills loom up, and away towards La 
Bassee enormous heaps of black slag rise against the 
sky — altogether a dull and depressing picture. 

‘Well,’ exclaimed Oliver, ‘you and I have seen a 
good bit of the country round about, Vivian; but I 
think this bangs all for dullness and general beastli- 
ness.’ 

‘Yes,’ replied Vivian cheerfully, ‘I should say it 
would take a bit of beating ; but, after all, what ’s the 
odds so long as you ’re happy ? ’ 

‘True, though I should think it would take a real 
Mark Tapley to be happy in such surroundings.’ 

‘A cross between a colliery, a mud-shoot, and a 
brickfield,’ growled Rock, who was just beside his 
masters. ‘ God only knows what sort o’ ’eathens the 
people can be who made such a show, and o’ course 
we must be shoved ’ere. I suppose they ’ad the ’ole 
British army to choose from ; but no reg’ment ’d do 
except the Wessex.’ 

‘ We sha’n’t be alone. Rock,’ said Oliver. 

‘ Which ain’t no consolation to us, sir. Knowin’ as 
another chap ’s as miserable as you are ain’t goin’ 
to make you ’appy, unless perhaps the other chap is 
more miserable still ; ’ and Rock, as if thinking over 
this consoling proposition, lapsed into silence. 

When they were well in among the trees, which 
grew thickly, the baldness of the surrounding country 
was hidden. True, great trunks had been split and 
riven when struck by shells, and branches were shorn 
off or chipped by bullets. The ground was boggy, but 
the numerous dugouts had a comfortable look, and 
men were busy making ‘ corduroy ’ roads, a task at 
which it was intended the Wessex should assist. 

As they passed along, every now and then a big 


IN ‘PLUG STREET.’ 


153 


shell soared by overhead, and frequently a humming 
buzz betrayed the path of a bullet. No one was hit, 
though, and the men were beginning to learn how 
many narrow escapes every one is always getting 
without being hit, and how near death one can be 
without being speared by. the grisly spectre. 

The various avenues in ‘ Plug Street ’ were all 
named, and as they marched along Oliver and Vivian 
noted with amusement a board nailed to a tree 
bearing the name ‘ Haymarket,’ and this led to 
‘ Piccadilly Circus.’ Presently they passed along the 
‘ Strand,’ and on to ‘ Dead Horse Corner,’ near which 
their work began. This consisted of chopping 
branches of a certain length and carrying them 
across to another party, which was making a cor- 
duroy paving by nailing these short branches to 
stouter ones laid parallel to each other at . a distance 
of about three feet, thus forming a very passable and 
enduring road. 

The different parties were smoking and laughing 
as they worked, certainly making more noise than 
older troops would have done. Suddenly there was 
gr-gr, tap-tap, gr-r-r-r, and a machine-gun swept 
amongst the trees, the bullets cutting great splinters 
of bark from the trunks, and, alas ! dropping two of 
the Wessex, one with a bullet through his heart, the 
other with a smashed shoulder. 

Instantly every man threw himself flat on the 
ground until the belt of cartridges was used. When 
all was silent again they rose once more to their 
feet. 

When Vivian looked round he saw that several 
men had gathered about the two poor fellows who 
lay upon the ground. A cry of anguish, heart- 


154 


IN 'PLUG STREET.* 


breaking in its intensity, broke from one of the 
group, and Vivian sa\y the elder Travers on his 
knees beside one of the prostrate figures. He had 
raised the head, of the poor fellow, and held it against 
his breast, looking down at the pallid features. 
‘Harry, Harry, my boy, speak, to me!’ he cried in 
agonised tones ; and the men standing round turned 
away, a sob in their throats. 

For a minute or so no one spoke; then Vivian 
approached and saw that the dead soldier was the 
poor handsome lad, the dark man’s brother. He 
looked at the pale, placid features, and recognised 
that the lad was beyond all earthly aid. He was 
dead. ‘ Bear up, Travers,’ he said gently, placing one 
hand on the big man’s shoulder ; ‘ it ’s the fortune of 
war.’ 

‘ He was my all, sir,’ replied Travers mechanically, 

‘ and now — and now — oh God, he ’s dead 1 ’ 

Vivian turned away. Inured as he was to the 
horrors of war, the agony of spirit of this big, stern- 
looking man touched his heart. 

Oliver and several men with a stretcher came up. 
These would have lifted the poor lad and carried 
him away. 

But the elder Travers glared savagely at them. 
‘ Don’t touch him ! Don’t touch him 1 ’ he said. ‘ He 
is mine in death, as he was in life ; ’ and, picking up 
his dead brother in his powerful arms, he carried 
him away. 

Vivian made a sign to the men not to interfere; 
and, saddened by the painful incident, they went 
back to their work. 

Presently the elder Travers came back, and, walk- 
ing up to Vivian, saluted, and said, ‘ Sir, I must ask 


IN ‘PLUG STREET.’ 


155 


you to excuse me ; for a few minutes my mind was 
unhinged. I will not forget my duty again.’ 

‘ My poor fellow,’ replied Vivian, taking his hand 
and pressing it warmly, ‘ don’t say another word 
about it. You have my heartfelt sympathy in this 
terrible trial.’ 

‘Thank you, sir; and to-night I should like to 
bury the boy myself, and then — and then — God 
grant we may soon get to grips with those devils 
over there,’ and he nodded towards the German lines. 
He went back to his work, and did not speak 
another word. 

The day passed without further incident, and 
when their work was over Travers lovingly wrapped 
his younger brother in a blanket, and, declining all 
help, dug a grave under a fine old tree. 

Vivian said he would read the service over the 
body, and he and Oliver, with several other officers 
and men, attended. Travers placed the body in the 
grave himself, and, after laying a small bunch of 
flowers on the corpse, stood by while the impressive 
funeral service was read. The others departed, 
leaving him to fill in the grave, and went off to 
snatch a few hours’ sleep before the time came for 
them to recommence their work. 

When Vivian passed the spot next morning he 
saw that a rough wooden cross had been erected, on 
which was carved : 

HAKRY TRAVERS, 

Killed 30th July 1915. 


CHAPTER XX. 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 


? the edge of the belt of trees in ‘Plug Street’ 



jfjL were the British trenches, and only eighty yards 
away were the Germans’. Over the desolate shot-and- 
shell-riven ‘ no man’s land ’ that rah between the two 
lines nothing could live for a minute in daylight, and 
it was only under cover of intense darkness that any 
one ever ventured upon it. 

Though there was no sign of life on the ‘ no man’s 
land,’ or behind the sand-bagged line that marked the 
trenches, keen eyes were always on the watch, and 
woe betide the man who oflfered any part of his body 
as a mark for more than a few seconds ! A bullet 
from a sniper’s rifle was his sure reward. 

The Wessex alternated fatigue- work in ‘Plug 
Street’ with duty in the trenches, and Oliver and 
Vivian, a week after the death of young Travers, 
found themselves watching through periscopes for 
any sign of life amongst the enemy. Both were 
good shots, and both had rifles ready laid through 
loopholes handy to their reach. 

The Wessex had lost several good men, partly 
through their own carelessness; and both Oliver 
and Vivian were keen on bringing the sniper to 
book. 

There was a corner of the trench where it bent 
at a sharp angle, and, the parapet having been shot 
away, sand-bags could not be built up so as to form 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 


157 


an efficient protection. In passing this partly unde- 
fended corner, a man was visible to the Germans only 
for a second ; but that seemed long enough, and no 
fewer than three men had been quite recently killed 
on that spot, which had been named ‘Dead Mans 
Corner.’ Curiously enough, all three of the men had 
been in the front trench only for a few minutes, 
having come along from the support-trenches on 
business of various sorts. 

For four hours that morning both Oliver and 
Vivian had been on the watch ; and, though several 
bullets had come humming across, they had not dis- 
covered whence the sniper fired. 

‘ That ’s one of the drawbacks of smokeless powder,’ 
grumbled Vivian; ‘there’s no doubt we have a good 
deal more to put up with than our forefathers who 
fought at Waterloo.’ 

‘ Perhaps, though, we have better methods of com- 
bating the difficulties, old chap.’ 

Vivian made no reply, but remained with his eye 
glued to the periscope. 

‘ Hallo, you fellows ! ’ cried a voice some half-hour 
later; ‘still on the prowl. You put one in mind of 
the heroes of my boyhood’s days — mighty hunters 
who used to lie in wait for hours with eyes squinting 
along their rifle-sights, waiting to draw a bead on 
some stealthy and fearsome animal.’ 

‘ If you can find me a more stealthy and fearsome 
animal than a Hun, Harris,’ replied Vivian, ‘ I ’ll give 
you best. But where are you off to ? ’ 

‘ I ’ve got a message for Captain Lindsay from the 
Colonel.’ 

‘ Mind how you pass Dead Man’s Corner, then. 
We ’ve had three accidents there this time in.’ 


158 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 


‘Oh, I sha’n’t show myself for an instant;* and 
Harris went oft'. 

Bang ! and a cry from beside them rang out. 
Harris had fallen, shot. Oliver and a private ran 
to his assistance, the private exposing himself for a 
second or two. Bang! and he fell with a bullet in 
his brain. Bang I bang ! from Vivian, who had never 
taken his eyes oft* the German trench; but, giving an 
exclamation of impatience, he stepped down from the 
fire-step, and went to see what had happened, taking 
very good care to stoop down well below the parapet. 

Oliver was kneeling beside Harris, with his hand 
placed over his heart. * He ’s got it through the 
shoulder, Vivian,’ he said, ‘ but whether fatally or not 
I can’t say.’ 

‘Let’s get him away from here; but mind you 
don’t expose your head. What of the man ? Who 
is it?’ 

‘Foster. Poor fellow’s dead as a door-nail.’ 

‘Before night he shall be avenged,’ said Vivian 
savagely. ‘I think I have now discovered why it 
is this corner is so unhealthy.* 

Word had been passed along for the stretcher- 
bearers, and the dead private and Harris (to whom 
first aid had been rendered) were borne away. 

Vivian did not go back to his periscope. ‘ Has it 
ever struck you, Oliver,’ he said, ‘ that almost all the 
casualties here occur to men who have just entered 
the trench, and who are passing farther along on 
business ? ’ 

‘ No, I ’ve never noticed it.’ 

‘Well, it is so; as was the case with Harris. 
Now, there ’s no doubt the enemy have some sort of 
periscope arrangement which gives them a view of 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 


159 


the communication-trench, and that when any one 
is seen coming along they signal to a sniper who is 
watching this exposed corner. He covers it with his 
rifle, calculates hoW long the person will be in passing 
along the trench, and, at the first sign, pulls trigger.’ 

*By Jove ! it sounds feasible enough.’ 

*1 saw him for a moment when he fired his second 
shot, and I marked exactly where he was. I mean 
to have him this afternoon;’ and Vivian at once set 
about his preparations. 

A ‘sack was obtained and filled with straw ; an 
officer’s tunic was buttoned round it, a sort of head 
made, and a cap fixed on that. A Sam Browne belt 
completed the equipment, and a very passable repre- 
sentation of a British ofllcer as seen at a distance of 
eighty yards was made. 

‘ Part one,’ said Vivian, as he and Oliver finished 
their task. 

‘ And a good part, too,’ said Bock. * There ’s some 
orficers as I’ve met as was about as much good at 
their job as this ’ere ; ’ and he contemptuously kicked 
the dummy. 

‘You can keep your remarks to yourself. Rock,’ 
said Vivian, ‘ and get your rifle ready. I think 
you’ve told me you were a first-class shot in your 
old soldiering days.’ 

‘ I was a marksman fourteen years runnin’, and 
I dare say I could ’it a ’aystack at twenty yards 
now.’ 

‘You’re just the man I want, then; come with 
me.’ 

They went to Vivian’s periscope, and he pointed 
out a particular spot in the enemy trench, almost 
opposite Dead Man’s Corner. 


160 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 


‘ Now, fix your eyes on that point just where that 
extra sand-bag seems almost toppling over. Do you 
see it ? ’ 

‘Easy enough,’ growled Rock. ‘I reckon I don’t 
want a telescope to spot that.’ 

‘Very well, then. From this loophole you’ll keep 
your eyes on that, and let rip at any one who shows 
above it, or fire just between that bag and the next 
when you hear me fire.’ 

‘ Right, sir.’ 

Oliver was also shown the spot, and from a second 
loophole he covered it with his rifle. Vivian was 
going to take up his old position when all was 
ready. A man was required to thrust the dummy 
out to attract the fire of the German sniper, and 
Travers asked for that duty. 

Vivian was not inclined to grant the request, but 
the man begged very hard. 

‘I will agree only on condition that you do not 
unnecessarily expose yourself,’ said Vivian. ‘ Remem- 
ber every life is valuable, and we don’t want any 
thrown away.’ 

‘ Don’t worry about that, sir,’ replied Travers. ‘ I ’ve 
got a score to settle with the Huns yet, and I ’m not 
going under till I ’ve paid it in full.’ 

‘Well, you will impale that dummy on your 
bayonet, and, when I tell you, thrust it for- 
ward till you have drawn a couple of shots,’ said 
Vivian. 

This being arranged, Vivian telephoned to the 
reserve-trench for an officer to come along the com- 
munication-trench and to walk along to him, as he 
wanted to speak to him. 

Crawford was sent, and when Vivian saw him 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 161 

coming he said to Oliver and Rock, ‘ Now, to your 
posts.’ 

When Crawford arrived Vivian said to him, 
‘ Stand beside me, and don’t go any farther as you 
value your life.’ He then gave Travers a signal, and 
the dummy was thrust forward. Immediately from 
the German trench a shot rang out, but the dummy 
did not fall ; whereupon another shot was heard, and 
for a second a bearded German showed his head above 
the crooked sand-bag. Suddenly three spurts of 
flame flashed from the British trench, the head leapt 
up, then disappeared. 

‘I think we’ve got him,’ cried Vivian gleefully. 
— * Keep the dummy there, Travers.’ 

He did so for another minute ; but no more shots 
came from the German trench, and then the dummy 
was removed. 

‘ What on earth ’s the racket ? ’ asked Crawford 
when it was all over. 

Vivian told him. 

* I hope you ’ve got the beast, then,’ said Crawford. 

* I think we have. I ’m almost sure I got him ; I 
was dead on him.’ 

‘An’ I never made a surer bull in my life,’ said 
Rock. ‘ Now, if you ’re done with me, I ’ll go back 
to the dugout an’ get on with the cookin’.’ 

‘ Off you go,’ said Vivian ; and some half-hour later 
a couple of stretcher-bearers were seen in rear of the 
German trenches bearing away a burden. 

‘We’ve got him, sure enough,’ said Oliver; and 
during the rest of the day no more firing at Dead 
Man’s Corner took place. 

The Brigadier in command of that part of the 
trenches was very keen upon night patrol work, 

O.H. K 


162 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 


a dangerous and often utterly useless proceeding. 
Listening-posts were established in ‘no man’s land/ 
and during the night patrols had to go round. The 
Huns had a very uncomfortable knack of sending 
up flares, when the patrol had to fling themselves 
down on their faces and lie almost without daring 
to breathe, while the enemy swept the ground with 
machine-gun fire. Numerous casualties occurred, and 
very little good ever resulted; but the orders were 
that it must be done, and so it had to be. 

That night Oliver had to take three men and creep 
along outside the wire entanglements to see that no 
one was prowling about from the German lines. 

It was about 1 A.M., and pitch-dark, when he very 
quietly scrambled out of the trench and started on 
his patrol. He had with him Rock, who insisted 
on being of the party, Travers, and a man named 
Saunders. 

On hands and knees they crept along after the 
fashion of Red Indians, squeezed under the wire 
entanglements, and then got upon their feet. Not 
a word was spoken, of course, and they trod as 
silently as rubber-soled policemen, their gum-boots * 
making no noise on the swampy ground. Suddenly 
the sound of some one trying to smother a sneeze 
reached them, and every man stopped, Oliver holding 
his revolver, and the others their rifles, ready to fire 
at the slightest alarm. 

Immediately afterwards a man almost bumped into 
Oliver, and a guttural voice cried, ‘ Wer geht ^ ? ’ 

‘ Fire ! ’ cried Oliver to his men, and three reports 
rang out. 

* Rubber boots worn over the usual military boots, and coming 
up to the knee. • 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER. 


163 


By the flash of the explosion fully a dozen armed 
Germans were seen; they had run right into an 
enemy patrol. Instantly these threw themselves on 
the British, and in the darkness a fierce struggle 
began. It was almost impossible to tell friend from 
foe, until suddenly a Verrey light went up from 
the British trench, and then Oliver could see his 
opponents. 

A sergeant lunged at him with his bayonet; but 
Oliver grasped the muzzle of the rifle and shot the 
man dead, only to find himself seized by a burly 
officer, who clapped a revolver to his head. Oliver 
caught hold of his wrist and twisted his hand aside 
as the German pressed the trigger, but the weapon 
was so close that the flash burnt his forehead. . Twice 
more the German fired, and then Rock plunged his 
bayonet into him. Oliver turned to help the others, 
and saw Travers surrounded by several of the enemy. 
The big man seemed like one possessed; he lunged 
with lightning-like rapidity S,nd great ferocity, and 
five Germans fell before him. Then Oliver saw 
Saunders fall, and a man leapt forward to finish him 
with his bayonet ; but Rock smashed the man s head 
with his rifle-butt, and the other Germans, three 
only, turned to fly. Three shots brought them down, 
and Oliver said, ‘Now, back to your trench.’ • 

Both British and Germans had watched the fight, 
but neither fired for fear of hitting their own men. 
No sooner did the Germans see their side defeated 
than a dozen shots rang out, and Oliver, Rock, and 
Travers threw themselves flat on the ground. The 
vicious rattle of a machine-gun was heard, and for a 
minute they had to lie perfectly still, cold perspiration 
breaking out on Oliver. 


164 


VIVIAN BAGS A SNIPER 


The glare of the Verrey light died down, and 
the darkness .seemed more intense than ever. 

Oliver whispered, ‘ We must make a run for it, but 
we must bring Saunders with us.* 

‘ Leave him to me,’ said Travers ; and he picked up 
the wounded man, and ran towards the wire entangle- 
ments. Oliver, and Rock stayed a little behind to 
protect him in case they were followed ; but they all 
managed to get under the barbed wire before another 
flare went up. Then they lay perfectly still till it 
went out, the wounded man never making a sound. 
Machine-gun bullets cut up the ground all round 
them, but no one was hit ; and when the flare died 
down they managed to crawl back to their trenches, 
dragging the wounded Saunders with them. 

Willing hands helped them over the parapet, and 
Vivian came running up to know if Oliver was hurt. 

‘No, old chap,’ replied Oliver; ‘and I believe we 
wiped out the whole lot of Huns. We stumbled 
right into them, and should have been mopped up if 
it hadn’t been for Travers. He fought like a fury, 
and accounted for at least six of them, then carried 
Saunders out of danger.’ 

‘ He ought to be recommended for his bravery.’ 

‘ Poor fellow ! I ’ll report the matter to the Colonel. 
If we could get him a decoration it might cheer him 
up a bit.’ 

‘ I reckon it would cheer ’im up a lot more to bag 
another brace o’ ’Uns,’ said Rock. ‘ I ’ve got as many 
decorations as most men, an’ I don’t know as they 
ever made me very cheerful.’ With whidi remark 
he went off to his masters’ dugout. 


CHAPTER XXL 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 



FRENCH- WORK, although at times pretty lively, 


1 tends to get monotonous, and many were the 
devices the Wessex resorted to in order to obtain a 
little variety. Travers’s forte was sniping, and he 
would wait patiently for hours on the chance of 
bagging a Hun, and when he was successful, as he 
very often was, for he was a good shot, it seemed to 
fill him with a sullen sort of satisfaction. Biit the 
death of his younger brother had certainly taken all 
enjoyment out of life for him, and he was quieter and 
more morose than ever. 

It was from one. of the other men that Oliver 
heard why the elder Travers felt his brother’s death so 
acutely. It appeared that they had been left orphans 
when the younger, Harry, was about five years old. 
George, the elder, had promised his mother always to 
look after the- boy, and had been almost a father to 
him, having him well educated, and lavishing all his 
money as well as his love upon him. Harry had got 
a bank clerkship, but George was an engineer. They 
lived, of course, together, and George had devoted his 
life to his younger brother. When Harry enlisted 
George did likewise, simply to be with his brother ; 
and when the Germans’ shot laid the younger man 
low he felt he had lost all life held sweet for him. 

Harris’s wound was a serious one, but not neces- 
sarily fatal. He had been sent to a base hospital, and 
thence would go to England. 


166 


. A SURPRISE VISIT. 


• " Lucky beggar to get a “ blighty ” * so soon/ said 
Skinner. 

But Crawford promptly disagreed with him. ‘We 
came out here to smash the Germans/ he said, ‘ and 
any man who is prevented from doing that is to be 
pitied. I don’t mind going down in my turn; but 
I hope I shall have accounted for a few Bodies first, 
and then I shall feel I have not wasted my time.’ 

The Germans never forgot the punishment they had 
received from the Wessex on their first arrival in the 
trenches; and, though the latter were now in quite 
a different part of the country, so well are the Huns 
always acquainted with the movements of the British 
troops that they knew the Wessex were opposite, and 
opprobrious epithets were often shouted out to them, 
together with threats of what they meant doing ‘ one 
day.’ 

One of the great annoyances the Boche subjects 
the British to are ‘ whiz-bangs/ bombs which he fires 
from a mortar called a Minenwerfer. .The British 
reply with hand-grenades ; but the Boche has a bomb 
weighing about one hundred pounds which he fires 
over, and which, when it falls in a trench, is a most 
deadly missile. 

Oliver and Vivian were one day sitting in their 
dugout, which Rock had made a most elaborate affair. 
There were two mattresses on straw in one corner, 
chairs, a table, a small and elegant stove, a rug, and 
even curtains at the aperture which served as a 
window. A large piece of looking-glass nailed to 
one side made an excellent mirror, and a solid 

* A ‘ blighty ’ is what Tommy calls a wound that takes him 
back to England, and is a corruption^ of the Hindustani word 
helahti (home). 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 


167 


mahogany door covered with earth and sand-bags 
served as a roof. 

Whenever he was asked where he got any of the 
things, Rock replied vaguely, ‘Oh, over there,' and 
jerked his thumb over his shoulder. It is to be 
feared that the old soldier was a most confirmed 
looter, and he was suspected of having laid every 
house within a large radius under contribution. True, 
the houses were deserted, and that was probably 
Rock's excuse. Food, too, was always abundant, and 
chickens, eggs, game, wine, and all sorts of things 
graced the friends’ table. 

The other subs, nicknamed Oliver and Vivian’s 
dugout ‘ The Carlton,’ and many a joke was cracked 
over its elegance. 

Private Rock was busying himself laying a very 
appetising cold collation on the table, polishing the 
plates with a not over-clean handkerchief, and rubbing 
the forks on the skirt of his tunic, when a thud came 
on the roof, followed by a terrific explosion, and a 
whiz-bang scattered the sand-bags, shattered the roof, 
and half-buried the occupants under a load of debris. 
All three within were thrown to the ground, and 
partly buried in earth and sand. Two other explosions 
quickly followed, and Oliver and Vivian, half-sufib- 
cated, worked furiously to free themselves. 

Soon willing hands were at work outside, and 
they, with Rock, suffering from a cut on the head, 
were rescued. Several men had been killed, and a 
feeling of deep resentment filled those in that par- 
ticular part of the trench, 

Oliver and Vivian were both a bit shaken, as was 
Rock ; but Cheery’s chief anger was expressed against 
the Boches who had dared destroy his handiwork. 


168 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 


The three of them were all right in a few hours, and 
willing hands helped to restore ‘The Carlton’ to 
something like its former glory. 

Rock worked stolidly and silently; and the next 
day, as he and Vivian were enjoying a pipe — for 
on service the barriers of caste disappear, and officer 
and man are mostly just comrades — the old soldier 
said, ‘Touchin’ this ’ere slingin’ o’ bombs by the 
Boches, sir, are we a-goin’ to take it lyin’ down ? ’ 

‘It all depends whether we happen to be asleep 
or not, doesn’t it. Cheery ? ’ 

‘You know what I mean. Are we a-goin’ to let 
them sausage-eatin’, goose-steppin’ rotters do it on us 
without givin’ ’em it back with interest ? “ Jao, eh 

dum” as we used to say in India, which, I may 
explain, means quicker ’n a’ Afridi ’ll slit a gullet.’ 

‘I should much like to teach them a lesson; but 
as we haven’t got any trench mortars I don’t quite 
see how it ’s going to be done.’ 

‘ Easy enough. If we can’t fire a few dozen bombs 
at ’em, let us carry ’em there, that ’s what I say.’ 

‘ By Jove 1 there may be something in it ; but I 
should have to get permission, and it’s risky work 
trying to surprise the Boches. I’ve no particular 
fancy for getting caught out in “ no man’s land ” by 
a machine-gun.’ 

‘ I ’ve got an idea in my old nut as I think ’ll need 
a bit o’ beatin’.’ 

‘ What is it ? ’ 

‘Afore we came into the ditch this time’ — Rock 
generally spoke of trench duty as ‘goin’ into the 
ditch ’ — ‘ I saw among a whole lot o’ muck sent out 
from ’ome a lot o’ pairs o’ rubber-soled shoes.’ 

‘ Well ? ’ 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 


169 


‘ With these ’ere on our feet, an’ ’alf-a-dozen bombs 
in our pockets, we ought to be able to give them 
Bodies a pretty handsome strafin’.’ 

Rock’s idea appealed to Vivian’s love of adventure. 
It was pretty dull work just then in the trenches; 
and, besides, to get one back on Brother Fritz would 
be a congenial task. 

' I ’ll talk the matter over with Mr Hastings,’ said 
Vivian; and half-an-hour later the three of them 
were deep in the details of the little expedition. The 
result was that Rock was sent with a note asking 
the Colonel’s leave ; and two hours later he was 
back again with the required permission, and with 
a dozen pairs of the said rubber-soled shoes into 
the bargain. 

About midnight Oliver, Vivian, Crawford, Rock, 
Travers, a man named Wilson (a harum-scarum, light- 
hearted fellow, the life of the company), another 
named Bulmer (a gentleman, who was credited with 
having an income of many hundreds a year), and 
five others, bareheaded and wearing rubber shoes, 
with jerseys or cardigan jackets, crept silently out 
of their trench and crawled stealthily towards the 
barbed wire. 

The night was very dark, and there was a moaning, 
fitful wind. Each man carried a dozen bombs and 
his bayonet, and the officers had, besides their 
revolvers, trench -bayonets — a sort of dagger, a par- 
ticularly deadly weapon at close quarters. 

The whole of the business had been very carefully 
arranged, and each man knew exactly what he had 
to do. 

The barbed wire in front of the British trenches 
was successfully negotiated ; and, once past that, the 


170 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 


men were counted to see that all were through. 
Then, lying flat on their stomachs, they began to 
crawl towards the German trenches, Oliver, Vivian, ’ 
and Rock in front. Hottentots might have praised 
the silent way in which they approached, and no 
accident happened till they were close to the German 
barbed wire. The voices of the men in the trench 
were audible, and Vivian heard one Boche tell another 
that the English pigs were very qiiiet that night. 

Both Oliver and Vivian smiled grimly, and thought 
to themselves that the Huns would alter their opinion 
when the fun began. 

Suddenly a stifled cough sounded quite close to 
them, and every one of the twelve lay motionless. 
Then very dimly the flgure of a man was seen away 
on their right. He was evidently a sentry thrown 
out inside the wire entanglements to guard against 
a surprise. 

* Leave him to me,’ whispered Rock, and before he 
could be stopped he had crawled away. 

Breathlessly the others waited, flve, ten minutes, 
but no sound was heard save another smothered 
cough from the German. His dim outline could still 
be seen, and Oliver and Vivian, watching him with 
straining eyes, suddenly saw him sink to the ground. 

‘ Rock has got him,’ muttered Oliver. ‘ It seems 
unsporting to kill a man in cold blood, even though 
he is a German.’ 

‘ It ’s unsporting to murder our women and children 
at home in their beds with Zeppelin bombs,’ answered 
Vivian. ‘ The Boches have called the tune, and now 
they must pay the piper.’ 

Successfully they all managed to pass the German 
wire, and then they crawled on until the enemy trench 


A SURPRISE VISIT, 


171 


was reached. All was silent except for the tramp of 
a sentry on the other side of the sand-bags. Waiting 
until the faint sound of his footsteps showed that he 
was at the extent of his walk, one by one the little 
band of Britishers dropped over into the trench. 

‘ Six to the right, six to the left,’ said Vivian, and 
with his party he started along the trench. The 
sentry was met, grappled with, and Vivian’s trench- 
bayonet took toll of his life. Then on again they 
went until several Germans were met Bayonets 
went to work, but one fellow, scenting danger, 
yelled out, and seized Crawford round the waist. A 
fierce struggle ensued. The alarm was now raised, 
and several shots were fired. 

Crawford, and his adversary had fallen in the 
mud, and were struggling fiercely, Vivian and the 
others being afraid to use their bayonets for fear 
of hurting Crawford. But suddenly Rock, seeing his 
opportunity, seized the German by the hair and 
dragged him partly off* Crawford, who was almost 
choked. Travers’s bayonet did the rest, and the six 
ran forward. 

From a big dugout several men were tumbling out, 
and half-a-dozen bombs concluded their account. 
Other dugouts were similarly served, and at length 
they reached a very large one, well lit, and quite 
elegantly furnished. At a table, on which a pack of 
cards still lay, five German officers had been sitting 
playing. Glasses and bottles were on the table. 

‘Hands up!’ cried Vivian as he gazed inside, and 
up went all the hands. Then one of the Germans, 
seeing only two or three Englishipen, plucked a 
revolver from his holster and fired two shots, one of 
which struck Wilson in the arm. 


172 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 


Instantly Rock hurled a couple of bombs, as did 
several others. There were half-a-dozen terrific ex- 
plosions, and the Kaiser was five officers the less. 

‘If they don’t know what “’ands up” means, 
they can find out what “toes up” is like,’ growled 
Rock. 

They were then close to a communication trench, 
and, the alarm having spread, men were heard hurry- 
ing along. 

‘Wait till they’re nearer,’ cried Vivian, ‘then let 
’em have the bombs.’ 

The voices of some scores of men sounded louder, 
and Vivian cried, ‘Now,’ whereupon a shower of 
bombs was hurled, literally blowing the enemy to 
pieces. The crashing of bombs on their left proved 
that Oliver and his men were also at work, and the 
enemy, thinking it was an attack in force, were for 
the moment panic-stricken. 

The time to retreat had come, and Vivian gave 
three loud blasts on his whistle, which were answered 
by Oliver. 

‘Now, back for your lives, boys !’ cried Vivian. 

On their way a machine-gun was bombed and 
destroyed; then they clambered out of the German 
trench. They had to wait a minute for Oliver, who 
came along reporting one man killed, but with him 
he had a German non-commissioned officer as 
prisoner. 

‘He fell on his knees and howled for. mercy,’ 
explained Oliver, ‘ and I hadn’t the heart to kill him.’ 

‘ Quite right ; let ’s play the game,’ said Vivian. 
‘ But now skip off to our .trenches, and take Wilson 
with you ; he ’s got a “ pill ” in the arm. — And you 
go too, Crawford.’ 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 


173 


They went off; but the delay, short though it 
was, had proved almost fatal. Some half-dozen 
Boches, realising that it was only a raid by a few 
Britishers, had rushed back to their front- trench, 
mounted a machine-gun on the parapet, and were 
hooking on a belt of cartridges. Travers, with a 
sullen growl, dashed at them, and with bomb and 
bayonet accounted for two. He was, however, 
attacked by two more, and while they were 
struggling the machine-gun spurted out a stream of 
bullets; whereupon Rock dashed up, and with two 
splendidly aimed bombs smashed the gun and killed 
the man working it. The other Germans dropped 
back into their trench, and the British raced off. 
They tore, their clothes to ribbons passing the 
German barbed wire, and were hardly clear of it 
when up went several German flares, lighting the 
scene as clear as day. 

Bullets whizzed round the adventurous Britishers, 
but they reached and passed their own barbed wire, 
and then two British machine-guns opened fire on 
the German trenches, and not a man dared show 
his head. 

The men, when they heard of the success of the 
expedition, were wild with delight, and gave a 
mighty cheer, which was replied to by a howl from 
the Boche trenches. 

‘ By gum, old man !* said Crawford, as ten minutes 
later he was drinking a cup of tea in ‘The Carlton,’ 
‘ that was some strafe. I guess the Boches will pepper 
us to-morrow for it; but we’ve certainly got the 
best of the deal so far. One killed, one wounded, 
and myself considerably frightened, against how 
many Huns would you say ? ’ 


174 


A SURPRISE VISIT. 


‘ We must have accounted for at least thirty,’ said 
Oliver, whose experience had been very similar to 
Vivian’s. 

‘Put it down at fifty knocked out, all told,’ said 
that officer. 

‘Not bad,’ chimed in Rock, who was actually 
grinning; ‘we’ve paid ’em for knockin’ our ’otel to 
bits, any’ow.’ 

‘ And that reminds me that in all probability I owe 
you my life. Rock,’ said Crawford. ‘ I am obliged to 
you now, and hope some day to repay the debt more 
effectually ; ’ and he shook the old soldier’s hand. 

‘ Oh, it ’s nothin’,’ replied Rock airily. ‘ I ’ve saved 
dozens o’ lives in my time. Why, up in the North- 
west ’ 

‘ But that ’s another story, as Kipling says,’ inter- 
rupted Vivian, who knew the length of some of the 
old man’s yarns, the accuracy of which was, to say 
the least, doubtful. 

‘ True, sir ; an’ I may manage to keep you awake 
with it one night when you’re on duty an’ inclined 
to go to sleep. I’ve had to do that afore now to 
some as is colonels an’ generals to-day.’ 

Crawford’s prediction was quite right. The 
Germans gave the Wessex two hours’ severe bom- 
bardment the next day; but when it was finished 
a board was hoisted from the trench, on which Vivian 
had chalked in German : 

‘ No luck this time. 

When are you going to 'pay a visit ? ’ 

The board was immediately riddled with bullets, 
which fact only elicited another cheer from the 
British. 


A SUEPRISE VISIT. 


175 


* I think, Oliver,’ said Vivian, ‘ that this time we Ve 
scored decisively oiF Brother Fritz. He dislikes 
being killed ; he hates being starved ; but what gets 
his rag really out, what he loathes above everything 
else, is being ridiculed and laughed at.’ 

‘ Serve the beast right ! ’ said Oliver. ‘ He set out 
on this campaign with a very swollen head. By 
degrees the swelling has been reduced, and by the 
time we and our Allies have done with him, in my 
opinion he won’t have any head at all to speak of.’ 


CHAPTER XXII. 


THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER. 

V ivian and Oliver were sitting together in a 
ruined cottage, through the doorless aperture 
of which the wind blew freely, while the rain came 
in unchecked through the holes in the roof. 

*So we’re going to make another move, are we, 
Oliver?’ remarked Vivian, as he lit an Abdulla 
Virginia. 

‘Yes; the pater whispered it in confidence to me 
when I saw him half-an-hour ago. Of course, mum ’s 
the word.’ 

‘Mummer than an oyster, Noll. I, for one, shall 
be glad to get on the move again, for this under- 
ground warfare does not appeal to me one little bit.’ 

‘Nor to any of us, I think. The retreat from 
Mons was pretty hot work, but we were out in the 
open and on the move. Though outnumbered, we 
could see what we were doing, and, if we were hit, 
we at least hit back.’ 

‘ True for you, my boy ; and the sooner we go once 
more for the Boches in the open the better I shall 
be pleased. There ’s something in the wind, sure 
enough, for troops have been coming out by the 
thousand, and we are now as well supplied with 
heavy artillery as is Brother Fritz.’ 

Vivian spoke truly, and it was a fact that the 
enemy liked little enough. It was time, too, that 
something was attempted on the western front, for 



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THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER. 177 

since the battle of Neuve Chapelle the position had 
resolved itself into one almost of stalemate, and 
affairs with the Allies on the other fronts had gone 
none too well. 

Przemysl, which the Russians had captured in 
March, had been retaken by the Germans and 
Austrians in June. The enemy had followed up this 
success by recapturing Lemberg, forcing the Vistula, 
and taking Warsaw, driving back the Russians with 
enormous losses. Then came the capture of Brest, 
Litowsk, and Grodno, as a consequence of which the 
Grand Duke Nicholas had been transferred to the 
command in the Caucasus, and the Czar himself had 
taken supreme command of the Russian armies. 

Our Ally was in a bad way, and it was becoming 
imperative to create a diversion on the western front 
to relieve the pressure on Russia. 

British and French forces had landed at Gallipoli 
in the hope of forcing the Dardanelles. The landing 
had been a most gallant affair, and it had been 
followed by terrific fighting. But blunders had been 
made, the results had been incommensurate with 
the losses of the Allies, and military men began 
to doubt the possibility of making any permanent 
success there. Great Britain was beginning to realise 
that the whole expedition was a mistake. 

The French on the western front, like the British, 
had been marking time, doing little more than hold- 
ing the enemy ; one of the reasons for their inactivity 
being shortage of shells, munitions having to be sent 
to Russia on account of one of her chief arsenals 
having been destroyed, it was suspected through 
German treachery. 

The Italians had declared war on Austria; but 
L 


O.H. 


178 THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER. 

beyond keeping a certain number of Austrians on the 
Isonzo front, the event had little effect upon the war 
on the other fronts. 

German piracy upon the high seas had continued, 
and there had been frequent Zeppelin raids on 
England, so that the outlook was not bright. 

The latest, menace to the Allies was the treachery 
of Bulgaria to Russia, and the former country’s im- 
minent entry into the war on the side of Germany ; 
while Greece’s attitude was clearly one of uncertainty 
with the obvious intention of joining in on whichever 
side seemed likely to be the winner. Hence it was 
high time that action against the enemy on the 
western front was taken. 

As Vivian had truly said, heavy reinforcements 
had been rapidly sent out from England, and guns, 
particularly eighteen and sixty pounders and 4-7’s, 
had been hurried out until our artillery was at least 
equal to the German. 

For some weeks the German lines had been sub- 
jected to heavy bombardments both by the French 
and the British, so that Tommy was well aware that 
‘ something was on.’ 

On the day following the conversation between 
Oliver and Vivian, the Wessex were marched some 
miles behind the firing-line, and, to the men’s great 
amusement, loaded up in motor-omnibuses and driven 
away west. 

On their journey they passed close to Neuve 
Chapelle, which both Oliver and Vivian had such 
good cause to remember, and they had to retail to 
Crawford and one or two others their experiences in 
that sanguinary struggle. 

It was dark when they reached their- destination ; 


THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER. 179 

but the roar of the guns showed them that they had 
arrived at a pretty active part of the lines. There 
was a big concentration of troops, and the commis- 
sariat was taxed to supply them with food. Bully- 
beef and biscuit were the only things obtainable, and 
there was no chance of brewing a cheery cup of tea. 
The night was dark and bitterly cold, and the troops 
had to make the best of bivouacking on the bare 
ground. 

‘This 'ere campaign is more like a bloomin’ tour o’ 
Europe than anythin’ else,’ grumbled Kock ; ‘ always 
on the trek, an’ each move one degree more ’orrible 
than the last. Strikes me we ’ll find ourselves at the 
North Pole at last.* 

‘ We must be in a bad state, Cheery, if you can’t 
discover some way of adding to the menu,’ said 
Oliver. ‘ Never mind ; I dare say the Boches are 
worse off than we are.’ 

‘They’ll be still worse off if I get a chance o’ 
’oppin’ in amongst ’em with a bayonet,’ said Rock. 
‘ Any’ow, this is all there is to eat, salt ’orse an’ dog- 
biscuit, an’ may you be able to digest it. Ditch-water 
to wash it down with is chucked in gratis.’ 

The next day the fury of the British bombard- 
ment increased ; troops kept arriving, large reserves 
of ammunition were brought up, dressing-stations 
established, gas-masks inspected, and everything 
showed that a big offensive was imminent. After 
weeks of trench-work the men were in high spirits, 
and all that the Wessex hoped for was that they 
might be in the attacking line and not the supports. 

The country in which the Wessex found themselves 
was as muddy as ‘ Plug Street,’ and much more filthy, 
the mud being mixed with coal-dust, as the whole 


180 


THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER. 


district is dotted with coal-mines and factories. So 
far as scenery was concerned, Rock had ample cause 
for his assertion that each new station was ‘ more 
'orrible than the last.’ 

Oliver and Vivian, in a brief pause from work, 
were standing on a small rise looking round at the 
country, when a motor-car came snorting along. 

They stood aside to let it pass without noticing 
the occupant, but it pulled up with a grating noise, 
and a voice cried out, ‘Hastings and Drummond, as 
I ’m a living sinner ! ’ 

They looked at the occupant of the car, whose red 
face was wreathed in smiles. 

‘ Terence Dwyer ! ’ said Oliver, and in a moment he 
and Vivian were heartily shaking hands with the ar- 
tillery major, with whom in the early part of the war 
they had gono through so many thrilling adventures. 

‘This is a pleasure, boys,’ said Dwyer. ‘I often 
wondered what had become of you. I ’ve never heard 
a word since I saw your names amongst the recipients 
of the Military Cross, on which I offer you my sincere 
congratulations. I began to think you were inca- 
pacitated for further service.’ 

‘ We don’t look much like that, do we ? ’ asked 
Vivian with a smile. 

‘ Faith ! I never saw either of you looking better. 
And you ’re just here in the right place, for we ’re 
going to give the Boche such a shaking up, I hope, 
that he ’ll be anxious to get back across the Rhine.’ 

‘ We ’re wondering what the plan is, and trying to 
get some idea of the lie of the land,’ said Oliver. 

‘I’ve been here for weeks, and can give you an 
inkling of our plan; but what I tell you must be 
entirely between ourselves as old comrades.’ 


THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER. 


181 


‘ Of course ; you know by this time that we 're as 
close as oysters.’ 

‘Just jump up here on the car, then, and take your 
glasses. Now there, just visible on your left, is La 
Bassee ; two miles this way is Haisnes ; another two, 
and that small village is Hulluch ; the town almost 
opposite us is Loos, and away on our right is Lens. 
The German trenches — formidable ones, I can tell 
you, eight or nine feet deep, cemented and floored, 
and simply plastered with machine-guns — run along 
in front of those places.’ 

‘ A tough job to shift those holding them, I should 
say,’ remarked Oliver. 

‘ An impossible one, my boy, for you infantry men 
alone,’ replied Dwyer, ‘and that’s where the artillery 
comes in. We gunners are, hour by hour, vsmashing 
the German lines up, and when your time comes to 
advance you ’ll have a walk over.’ 

‘H’ml’ said Vivian, ‘I’ve remarked the optimism 
of you gunners before.’ 

‘This time it’s all right. See those two great 
slag-heaps on our right front ? ’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘They’re known as the Double Grassier; they 
simply bristle with machine-guns and mitrailleuses. 
The job of taking them will be entrusted to the 
47 th Division.’ 

‘ That ’s ours,’ said Oliver. 

‘You’re in luck, then,’ remarked Dwyer, ‘for you’ll 
be in the thick of it. Having taken the Double 
Grassier, you ’ll wheel to your left, carry the church- 
yard, capture Loos, and take that hill over there — 
Hill 70 it is called. Do you see it ? ’ 

‘ Yes,’ said Oliver. 


182 


THE STORM-CLOUDS GATHER. 


"It’s a pretty enough programme/ commented 
Vivian. ‘What do we do when we’ve got Hill 70, 
may I ask ? ’ 

‘ That we shall see/ replied Dwyer, smiling. 

‘I hope we shall/ grinned Oliver; ‘but, judging 
from previous experiences, I expect a good many of 
us will be beyond seeing anything before Hill 70 is 
reached.’ 

Dwyer shrugged his shoulders. ‘ War is war, boys,’ 
he said. ‘I’ve been behind the scenes a bit this 
time, and I can tell you no stone has been left un- 
turned to make this a real success. Every yard of. 
the ground has been reconnoitred ; each company com- 
mander will have a plan of the ground in front of 
him, with every ditch, every hedge, and every build- 
ing marked on it. There will be thirty thousand 
cavalry and horse artillery ready to swoop down on 
the Huns if we get a real success, and we hope big 
things will happen. The idea is to sweep on, take 
Lens and the northern end of the Vimy heights, and 
get access to the plain of the Scheldt. If we once 
get Brother Fritz out there in the open, he won't 
have time to pack his kit or go goose-stepping back 
to the Rhine. He ’ll get, and quickly, too ! ’ 

‘It* sounds promising/ said Vivian; ‘let’s hope it 
will work out all right. And now, where are you oft* 
to, Dwyer ? ’ 

‘Back to my guns. I’ve been over to see my 
Brigadier, and the final arrangements are all made. 
To-night you ’ll hear a racket, for we ’re going to give 
the Huns a surprise packet of high explosives. This 
time we ’ve got the guns, and Fritz is going to find 
it out.’ 

The cheery Irishman reseated himself in the car. 


THE STOKM-CLOUDS GATHER. 


183 


and, after a hearty handshake, went off on his way 
as happy as a sandboy. 

‘Upon my word, Dwyer is like a tonic,' said Vivian 
as he and Oliver returned to their platoon ; ‘ he posi- 
tively revels in the idea of the coming scrap.’ 

‘ He s gloriously optimistic,’ said Oliver ; ‘ and, after 
all, that ’s half the battle.’ 

That night the Wessex went off to their allotted 
place in the trenches. A perfectly appalling bom- 
bardment from the British guns was proceeding, to 
which the Germans replied, only faintly. The night 
was dark, and the roads were crowded. Ammunition 
lorries, Red Cross vehicles, staff-officers’ cars, motor- 
cycles, were all pressing forward. Load after load of 
lyddite was being pushed up towards the gun-pits, 
and it filled the old soldiers — who in the early part 
of the war had had to face the hell of the German 
bombardments unanswered — with fierce joy. 

The infantry had to squeeze up on the side of the 
road to let the vehicles pass, and Rock kept up a 
never-ceasing grumble. 

‘If they don’t get us all into a bally muck, my 
name ain’t Rock,’ he said. ‘ Trust the brass hats for 
muddlin’ everythin’. We shall want a week to sort 
ourselves out after this.’ 

But in spite of his prognostications, in spite of the 
shells which occasionally fell amongst them, taking 
their toll of life, they at last found themselves in 
the trenches, and proceeded to get an hour’s sleep 
before dawn, for none knew whether the next 
morning would not see the great and long-expected 
attack made. 


CHAPTER XXII I 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


HE dawn broke damp and chilly. As soon as 



X the light began to show in the east the men 
— who had, as usual, been standing to their arms for 
an hour — peeped over the parapets or stared through 
periscopes. 

‘ Blow me,’ said Rock to Oliver, ‘ if we ain’t 
got back to England again! Why, what’s that 
there — the Tower Bridge, or the Crystal Palace, or 
what ? ’ 

Oliver looked in the direction Rock pointed, and 
saw two great towers of steel girders, some three 
hundred feet high, joined by a bridge towards the 
top, and having apparently another stage some half- 
way up. It looked indeed like the Tower Bridge, 
and was immediately so named by the troops. 

‘I suppose it’s some part of the machinery con- 
nected with the mines,’ said Oliver. ‘In any case, 
it affords a splendid lookout station for the enemy.’ 

As the day got lighter, the Tower Bridge seemed 
to loom larger and to dominate the scenery; but it 
was no longer safe to look at it, for the German 
snipers got busy, and the platoon commanders for- 
bade any man to expose so much as a finger. 

The British and the German trenches were about 
five hundred yards apart, and on the ‘no man’s 
land ’ grass and weedy cabbages grew on the chalky 
soil. 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


185 


* Bad ground to advance over, Vivian,’ said Oliver. 
*We shall pay a price, I expect, when we get the 
order, “ Over the parapet ! ” ’ 

‘All depends on how well Dwyer and his men 
have done their work, old boy. Anyway, cross the 
ground we will.’ 

The division to which the Wessex were attached 
was on the extreme right of the line, and consisted 
entirely of Territorial troops. Behind them was a 
cavalry division, and high hopes were entertained 
that if the infantry attack succeeded the horsemen 
might do great things. 

During the day a terrific cannonade was main- 
tained. The shells made a continual moaning as 
they flew overhead, and the noise of their explo- 
sion was like one long continuous roll of thunder. 
Thousands upon thousands of shells, with intervals 
of only a few seconds, pounded away at the enemy’s 
wire entanglements, smashed his sand-bagged parapets, 
crashed into the quarries and slag-heaps, blew to 
pieces cottages and factories, and tore down the 
woods and villages that formed his position. The 
Germans were getting a taste of what the British 
had had to endure in the early stages of the war ! 
Over all, aeroplanes continually darted about, direct- 
ing the fire ; and during the day several air encounters 
took place, in every one of which the Germans were 
worsted. 

The weather was misty and wet, and the trenches 
became sloppy and muddy, while the roads were 
slippery ; but all day the preparations were pushed 
forward, and it became known that the Brijbish were 
going to use gas and smoke in their attack, and 
were waiting only for a favourable wind. 


186 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


The next day the wind changed, and the officers 
were warned for the attack. At 4 A.M. on Saturday 
morning the watches of the officers taking part 
in the attack were synchronised, in order that com- 
plete unison of movements might be obtained, and 
the final instructions were issued. 

During the whole night shrapnel and machine- 
guns played ceaselessly on the German lines to 
prevent the enemy repairing the breaches in his 
entanglements and parapets under cover of darkness. 

Soon after 4 A.M. Colonel Hastings had assembled 
his platoon officers and given them his final instruc- 
tions. ‘ Remember, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘ at 6.30 A.M. 
to the moment we leave the trenches and charge 
the German lines. Let the officers be the first over 
the parapets. Stop for nothing, and as long as thero 
is one of you on your feet, go forward. The men 
will follow you, never fear ! ’ 

Oliver and Vivian went among their platoon to see 
how the men were taking it. Two were playing on 
mouth-organs; several were asleep; and one man, 
by the light of a lantern, was actually polishing the 
blade of his bayonet. Several were carefully oiling 
and cleansing their rifles in order to make sure they 
wouldn’t fail in the hour of need ; but not one man 
looked or felt the least bit dismayed. Cheerfulness, 
confidence, and calm resolution was the universal 
feeling. 

The bombers were ready, and positively anxious 
to get to work. Many had not yet had an oppor- 
tunity of testing the value of their novel weapons, 
and, as one man said, they were anxious to see the 
effect of them on the Boches. 

Oliver and Vivian were ready too. Each had a 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


187 


bag of bombs, and a rifle and bayonet slung over 
his shoulder. There was nothing to distinguish them 
from the men; they were as dirty and as muddy, 
and their equipment was practically the same. The 
platoon no longer depended on its officer to keep it 
together; every man knew what he had to do, and 
was determined to do it.* 

At 4.35 A.M. the British guns concentrated their 
fire, and rained a perfect tornado of shells on the 
German positions. The flashes of the guns gave a 
continuous light; the ground shook as though torn 
by an earthquake ; the air was riven and torn ; but 
the British sheltered in their trenches, and hugged 
themselves to think that at last the enemy was 
getting a well-deserved punishment. 

At 5.30 A.M., in the faint light of early dawn, 
clouds of gas and smoke issued from the British 
trenches and were wafted toward the enemy. This 
gas was not poisonous chlorine, the diabolical sort 
used by the Germans, that caused our men to expire 
in untold agonies, but simply a stupefying gas that 
would asphyxiate them and prevent them offering 
any resistance. 

The British were ordered to don their smoke- 
helmets, but not to draw them over their faces until 
five minutes before the attack. 

At 6.30 A.M., to the moment, the British fire ceased, 
and the dead silence for an instant was more awe- 
some than the noise had been. 

‘ Now, lads, forward ! ’ cried Oliver, as he clambered 
*In the present war infantry officers do not carry swords. 
Revolvers and some bombs, or else a rifle and bayonet, are found 
much more useful. In clambq^ing out of the trenches or in 
squeezing through barbed wire, a sword-scabbard would be a great 
impediment, 


188 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


over the parapet, side by side with Vivian ; but, quick 
as they were, Colonel Hastings was before them. 

In three seconds the men were out of the trench, 
looking in their gas-masks like a troop of demons 
from the underworld. They were hidden from the 
enemy by the clouds of gas and smoke which had 
been projected from the British trenches, and they 
raced forward blindly, having apparently no objective. 
They advanced in silence, too, for there was no enemy 
visible at whom to hurl defiance. 

Presently, through the smoke-cloud in front of 
them, bullets in thousands began to cut, and the 
hoarse rattle of machine-guns told them they were 
near to the enemy. Men fell, bowling over and over 
or spinning round as they were hit ; but the Wessex, 
setting their teeth under their gas-masks, raced on, 
and, suddenly penetrating the smoke-cloud, saw that 
they were opposite the great slag-heaps of the Double 
Grassier. 

No sooner did they come into view than the fire 
from rifles and machine-guns was trebled ; for, in spite 
of the heavy bombardment, the enemy still held on 
to the slag-heaps. 

Colonel Hastings, well ahead, turned and waved 
his stick; he was prevented by his gas-mask from 
shouting out. The men understood, and, just as 
the British guns behind reopened at longer range, 
dashed at the foremost trench with the bayonet. 

The defenders, though demoralised by the pounding 
to which they had been subjected by the British guns, 
and dazed by the smoke, still oflfered a stout re- 
sistance. Caked from head to foot with sticky coal- 
dust and mud, they looked like demons as the British 
swarmed over the parapet and went at them. The 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


189 


bombers treated each dugout to a couple of bombs, 
while their comrades cleared the trench with the 
bayonet. 

Oliver, dropping down into the trench, followed 
by some half-dozen men, swept along it. A German 
fired, missed, and next moment fell back with six 
inches of Oliver's bayonet in his chest. Several 
other Germans came scrambling out of a dugout, 
and began firing. A couple of bombs and a rush 
led by Oliver accounted for them ; and then on the 
Wessex raced along a communication- trench, stab- 
bing, shouting, and bombing till the trench was won. 

In ten minutes all resistance at the Double Grassier 
was over ; the defenders were slain or taken prisoners ; 
and the Wessex, winded after their race and fight, 
in spite of warning took off their gas-helmets and 
looked about them. 

Away on their left the Scottish Borderers, dazed 
by smoke and gas, had been encouraged to throw off 
its effect by a piper who had coolly mounted the 
parapet, and, walking up and down, had roused his 
comrades to a mad degree with the strains of 
‘ Highland Laddie.' The Borderers were then sweep- 
ing on towards the cemetery and chalk-pits on their 
front, the piper still playing.* 

The smoke having cleared, Colonel Hastings saw 
his objective, and, having also removed his mask, 
cried out, * Now, boys, we 're going to clear the 
cemetery; let's see whether we can race the Scots- 
men for it.' 

A wild cheer broke from the Wessex, and through 

* This piper, Daniel Laidlaw, of the 7th King’s Own Scottish 
Borderers, was awarded the Victoria Cross for his gallantry on 
this occasion. 


190 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


a pitiless machine-gun and rifle fire they raced 
onward. Men fell on all sides, but the officers 
encouraged their platoons by word and example. 
Skinner, of sausage fame, was well in front of his 
platoon ; and Crawford, who coulcl not bring himself 
to get so far away from the old traditions of the 
army as to carry a rifle, was wildly waving his arm, 
yelling out something which, whatever it was, the 
men could not possibly hear in that tremendous din. 

So serious were the losses of the Wessex that 
Colonel Hastings saw it would be impossible to carry 
the cemetery with one mad rush. He held up his 
hand as a signal to stop, and with a further signal 
dropped his men all flat on the ground, when they 
opened a hot fire on the church and cemetery. 

From behind the walls of the churchyard the 
Germans kept up a constant fusillade from machine- 
guns, while almost every tombstone shielded a snipen 

‘ This is a hot corner,’ said Oliver to Vivian as they 
lay side by side, blazing away like any Tommies. 

‘Too hot to last,’ replied Vivian. ‘At the rate 
they’re banging away with their machine-guns 
they ’ll soon use up their ammunition, unless they ’ve 
got an unlimited supply.’ 

For a couple of minutes a perfectly infernal fusil- 
lade was maintained; then the Borderers, who had 
also been* checked, rose to their feet and inclined to 
their left so as to get on the flank of the enemy. 

Waiting until the Germans had turned their fire 
upon them, Colonel Hastings leapt to his feet. 
‘Now, Wessex, bombers in front, and then the 
bayonet.’ 

The Wessex leapt to their feet and rushed forward. 
Again the leaden torrent was turned upon them, 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


191 


and men fell in groups. The survivors reached the 
churchyard wall, however, and a German in front of 
Vivian lifted his machine-gun on to the top of the 
wall so as to get a better sweep with it, but a bomb 
from Oliver blew the man to fragments. 

Rock, who had kept close to his masters, gave a 
cry of satisfaction. ‘ Let ’s give ’em a taste o’ their 
own medicine ! ’ he yelled ; and, swinging round the 
gun, he poured a deluge of bullets amongst the tomb- 
stones. With the assistance of Oliver and Vivian, all 
the belts of cartridges were used ; and then, leaving 
the captured gun in the possession of a corporal, 
forward they went, forcing the enemy steadily back- 
wards. 

A sanguinary struggle took place, the fighting 
being chiefly with bayonets. Here Travers greatly 
distinguished himself. Towering above most of his 
comrades, fighting in dead silence, with his jaws set 
like a vice, he ran from tombstone to tombstone, 
thrusting and hacking, or smashing in heads with the 
butt of his rifle until his face, hands, and uniform 
were splashed all over with blood. He looked a 
terrible figure, and the Germans seemed to hold him 
in awe and avoid him. 

Gradually the enemy was driven back, until the 
survivors took refuge in the church, and the Wessex 
and the Borderers closed in on them. 

‘ There ’ll be nae need tae stick them,’ cried out a 
Scottish Borderer; ‘we’ll jist shoot them frae the 
windows ; ’ and the Wessex acted on the hint, pouring 
in a fierce fire upon them. 

Crawford, however, roused to a mad enthusiasm, 
dashed up to the doors. ‘Forward, bombers!’ he 
shouted ; ‘ blow down the doors ; ’ and in five minutes 


192 


THE BATTLE OPENS. 


they were shattered. Butt-ends of rifles finished the 
work ; and then, calling together a dozen men, Rock 
and Travers being among them, heedless of the firing 
from the windows, he dashed in with his men and 
charged the Germans with the bayonet. That was 
too much for Teuton nerves. In an instant every 
hand went up, and amidst cries of 'Kamerad! 
Kameradl* three officers and forty -seven men 
surrendered. 

The task of marching them to the rear was 
entrusted to Skinner ; and, after a minute’s breathing 
space, the men were got clear of the cemetery, which 
they had so gallantly taken, and formed under cover 
of the dunes that run from Vermelles to Loos. 

At that moment a terrific combat waS being waged 
along the whole British front from La Bass6e to 
Lens. The British, determined to break through, 
were attacking with the utmost bravery ; the 
Germans, realising what they had to lose, were 
resisting stubbornly. So far, in the particular part 
of the line in which were the Wessex, success had 
crowned their efforts, but the cost had been great. 
Only part of their work was done, though. To the 
47th Division was entrusted the task of capturing 
Loos, and units of the Wessex, Camerons, Middlesex, 
Warwicks, and Berkshires formed and advanced 
steadily towards Loos and Hill 70, which they 
determined to take or die in the attempt. 

News came that the left brigade of the division 
had been hung up by barbed wire, and had made but 
little progress. This, however, only made the leaders 
of the right brigade more determined to succeed ; 
and, under a heavy fire, the Wessex moved forward 
again to the assault. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS, 



‘HE British artillery had done its work well 


X in that particular section of the line. The 
barbed wire had been completely swept away, and 
when the attacking forces came under fire from the 
front-line German trenches the volume of it showed 
that they could not be very strongly held. 

The Wessex advanced in extended order. ‘Every 
man for himself ! ’ cried Colonel Hastings ; ‘ and don’t 
forget what I have taught you. Take advantage of 
every bit of cover ; and, when the final rush comes, 
keep a cartridge in your rifle in case of emergency.’ 

There was no artillery-fire to support the attackers, 
so there was nothing for it but to rush straight 
ahead, and not to stop until the German trenches 
were reached. It was an advance that tried the 
mettle of the hardiest, for the ground, blown into 
great holes by the shells, pitted with mine-craters, 
and encumbered with broken war-material, was swept 
by rifle and machine-gun fire. 

The bombers, each with his two bags of bombs, 
went ahead, and when they got within throwing 
distance they reduced the volume of the German fire 
considerably. It was a grim sight as the rocket 
bombs, with their webbing tails, fell in their dozens 
just over the gray sand-bags, exploding with vivid 
flashes and terrific bangs. The assaulting infantry 
were close on the heels of the bombers, and, did one 


O.H. 


M 


194 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


fall wounded or dead, his bombs were immediately 
picked up and thrown by some comrade, for all 
bad been trained. Soon they were in amongst the 
shattered wire, which had. been almost entirely blown 
away ; then a dozen or so more paces and the sand- 
bagged parapet was reached. 

In an instant Oliver found himself lying on the 
top of some bags, thrusting down viciously with his 
bayonet at two grinning-faced Boches who were 
firing up wildly. .In his endeavour to reach one 
fellow he overbalanced and toppled into the trench 
almost on top of the two Germans. Instantly one 
shortened his bayonet to plunge it into Oliver’s body, 
when Rock’s rifle-butt smashed in the fellow’s head. 
Next instant Oliver was again on his feet, and the 
second German was dead, with a bullet in his brain. 

Some of* the Warwicks came charging up over the 
parapet, and, mixing with the Wessex, pushed along 
the trench. Bombers and bayonet-fighters worked in 
pairs, and bloody were the combats waged, with 
scarcely elbow-room in the trenches. The dugouts 
were elaborate affairs, frequently twenty feet deep. 
They were boarded in, often, whitewashed, lit by 
electricity from the generating station close by, and* 
warmed by stoves. Tables, chairs, sleeping -bunks, 
and other comforts were in all of them ; while some 
even boasted pictures, and one a piano ! 

The stormers, however, gave little heed to these 
things. As they reached each dugout they shouted, 
and if the inmates at once came forth with hands up, 
the while a Tommy with rifle and bayonet ‘ covered * 
the exit, good ! But if any one fired from the dug- 
out, or if there was no answer, a couple of bombs were 
hurled in, and there was no more dugout. 


THE CAPTUKE OF LOOS. 


195 


Clearing the front-line trenches, the stormers 
passed along the communication-trenches and on into 
the second line, which was also carried/ and then out 
again into the open country, and on to the outskirts 
of Loos, where the great ‘ Tower Bridge ’ now looked 
gigantic, towering up almost directly over their heads. 

The victorious advance of the British had shaken 
the nerve of the enemy ; and though the fighting on 
the outskirts of Loos was very bitter, from the 
first the Germans began to fall back. The British 
won their way yard by yard to the great iron 
Structure known as the ‘ Tower Bridge,’ and here a 
determined stand was made. The Germans held it 
strongly with machine-guns, and the losses among 
the British were heavy. 

‘ This will never do ! ’ cried Vivian. ‘ Where ’s the 
Colonel, Oliver ? ’ 

‘ I haven’t seen him since we left the churchyard. 
We ’d better get the chaps under cover, and wait for 
our own machine-guns to come up.’ 

The men were loath to take cover, but it had 
become imperative, and they opened a heavy fire on 
the iron structure, on which were a number of 
snipers. Presently two machine-guns arrived, and 
Oliver and Vivian went over to direct their fire. 
Meanwhile bullets and shells rained mercilessly on 
the attackers ; but they were giving as good as they 
received. The British machine-guns opened with a 
rattle, and many a sniper fired his last shot from the 
* Tower Bridge.’ 

Then Colonel Hastings, who had got separated 
from his column, came along with a party of 
Camerons and Warwicks and a few men of the 
Wessex. ‘Now, boys, the bayonet!’ he cried, and 


196 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


forward swept the troops, a medley of several 
regiments. Crawford was w6ll to the front, and 
away they raced, reached the ‘Bridge,’ and in five 
minutes not a living German was on it. 

‘ Thank God you ’re safe so far ! ’ said the Colonel to 
Oliver. ‘ Find Vivian, and get the men away from this 
Eifiel Tower place as soon as you can. The enemy 
are almost sure to have mined it, and we shall all 
be in the air if we stop here.’ 

The men were ready enough to press on, and away 
they went. Contrary to the Colotiel’s expectations, 
the ‘Tower Bridge’ did not blow up. Either the 
Germans never thought they would lose it, or else, 
in the hope of recovering so valuable a lookout station, 
they refrained from blowing it up. Anyhow, it 
remained in the hands of the British. 

As the losses of the attackers grew heavier it 
became more and more difiicult to keep units together. 
They got mixed up, and little knots composed of men 
of different regiments, each acting under its own 
officers, followed their own initiative, and pressed 
forward. 

At the entrance to Loos the Germans had erected 
a formidable barricade, and to have stormed it with 
the bayonet would have been a very costly endeavour. 
Guns were telephoned for, and soon a couple of field- 
pieces arrived. These planted shells with beautiful 
precision on the barricade, while the machine-guns 
swept it. It would have been an easy matter to 
batter down the houses in Loos ; but, as it was known 
that a considerable number of women and children 
belonging to the place had continued to live there 
during the German occupation, this could not be done. 

A machine-gunner, who was doing splendid work. 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


197 


suddenly found that his gun had jammed. After one 
or two ineffectual attempts to repair it in the position 
he occupied, he coolly shouldered the gun, retired 
under a terrific fire, sat down upon the ground, and 
took the weapon to pieces, all the while a mark for 
hundreds of German rifles. Having adjusted the 
gun, he returned to his original position, and again 
opened fire as calmly as though at an ordinary field 
day, thus emulating the gallant exploit of Private 
Lynn at the Aisne.* 

Another machine-gun, belonging to the Wessex, got 
so hot that it was impossible to fire it. The men 
crowded round, emptied the contents of their water- 
bottles into the water -chamber, and, when it had 
sufficiently cooled, recommenced firing. 

The German resistance having been largely broken 
down, the word to charge was given, and English, 
Scots, and Irish, all mixed together, leapt forward. 
They reached the barricade, and some dashed at it 
with the butt-ends of their rifles, while others 
scrambled over. In five minutes bombs and bayonets 
had cleared a way, and the British were in Loos. 

Then began a scene that it is almost impossible 
to describe. From street to street, from house to 
house, the British fought their way. From the houses, 
from the very cellars, the Germans were dragged out, 
and if they did not instantly surrender they were 
bayoneted. To do them justice, it must be admitted 
that many of them fought to the last, but scores of 
prisoners fell into the hands of the victors; and, 
dazed, defeated, and terror-stricken, they were dis- 
armed and passed on to the rear. 

Rock was in his. element; and, though even in the 
* Note B— Private Lynn’s Exploit. 


198 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


thick of the fighting he had an occasional grumble, 
the value of the old and tried soldier evinced itself 
at every turn. It had to be a very cute German 
who could get the better of that old frontier fighter, 
and he found ways of opening doors and storming 
houses that astonished the enemy. 

Oliver and Vivian kept with him; and Travers, 
inexorably stern, took toll of the enemy for his loved 
brother’s death. Many a Teuton that day died for 
his Fatherland in payment of the death of Harry 
Travers. 

Nearly in the centre of Loos was a house some- 
what more pretentious than its fellows, and as 
Oliver and his party came opposite it a smart rifle- 
fire was opened from the upper windows. 

‘ More Boches ! ’ cried Rock ; ‘ let ’s dig ’em out.’ 

Travers was already at the door, on which he beat 
savagely with his rifle-butt,* while one or two others 
stood by with bayonet at the charge to reckon with 
any of the enemy who might decide to rush out and 
die fighting. 

The bullets from the window, however, found 
several billets among the growing crowd, and angry 
cries arose. The door, a stout oaken one, defied all 
efforts to beat it in, and men cried out angrily, ‘ Burn 
the place ! ’ ‘ Smash in the windows ! ’ ‘ Get up a 

machine-gun!’ and so on. Oliver — who from the 
opposite side of the street had seen the heads of 
a good many Germans at the upper window — after 
sending half-a-dozen shots at them, and narrowly 
escaping being killed in return, ran across the road. 
‘A couple of bombs is what we require,’ he said; 
and instantly the cry was taken up : ‘ Bombs ! bombs ! 
Any bombers here ? ’ 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


199 


A man of the Warwicks replied, ‘ I Ve got one 
I’ve been keeping as a surprise packet, in case I 
got into a tight corner.’ 

‘ And I ’ve just got two beauties,’ said a small, dark- 
featured Cameron man. 

‘Come on, my boys,’ said Oliver; ‘let them rip, 
two together, when I say, “Now!” All you others 
stand back, and keep up a fire on the window.’ 

‘ Across the road,’ said Vivian ; ‘ we shall get a better 
aim there.’ 

The Warwick and the Cameron drew out the pins 
from their bombs, and Oliver counted aloud, ‘ One — 
two — three — four — five! Now!’ and the bombs 
crashed against the door. They exploded with a 
tremendous bang almost simultaneously, and the 
Warwick was knocked down, stunned with a frag- 
ment of stone from the step. The door, however, 
was shattered, and with a whoop of delight the 
British smashed away the fragments of wood and 
forced an entrance. As they did so loud cries and 
screams were heard. 

‘ Hallo, what ’s this ? ’ cried Vivian. 

‘We’ll soon see,’ replied Oliver, and up the stairs 
he dashed. 

Each room was looked into as they went by, but 
no German was seen. The door of the big room at 
the top of the house was locked, but the foremost 
men attacked it furiously with their rifle-butts, 
whereupon a volley was fired through the door, one 
man being hit. 

‘ Two can play at that game,’ said Rock. ‘ I ’ll bet 
British bullets ’ll go through wood same as German ; ’ 
and he fired through the door, his example being 
followed by several others* 


200 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


Then the door was attacked again, and soon broken 
down. Furniture had been piled in front of it, but 
with their shoulders the British heaved it away, 
and, scrambling through, saw quite a dozen Germans, 
half of them officers, standing at bay in the room. 

‘ Karmrad ! Kamerad I ’ cried one, a mere youth, as 
he saw the fierce faces of the British. He threw up 
his hands in token of surrender, when a fat, bald- 
headed officer shot him dead. 

‘Brute!’ cried Oliver, and he dashed at the 
Prussian, who, however, parried the bayonet -thrust 
with his sword, and retired behind another man. 

Bock, Vivian, and Travers threw themselves upon 
the others, who, back to back, made a good stand. 
The officers had swords and revolvers only, which 
were not so serviceable as rifles and bayonets, and 
soon there were only three Germans alive. The 
room resembled a shambles, pools of blood standing 
on the floor and the walls being spattered. One 
young officer, in a fit of madness, suddenly leapt from 
the window, and was smashed in the street below. 
The other two, one of whom was the officer who had 
murdered the young soldier, threw up their hands in 
token of surrender. 

‘ Save the private ! ’ cried Vivian ; ‘ he has fought 
fairly ; ’ and at the same time a bayonet-thrust from 
Rock that did not need repeating paid the brutal 
Prussian officer for shooting his own countryman. 

‘ What ’s sauce for the goose is ditto for the gander,* 
said Rock grimly. ‘ You don’t believe in privates 
surrenderin’, an’ I don’t believe in orficers ’ands 
up.’ 

The private was secured, and the British turned 
to leave the room, which was not a pretty sight. 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


201 


As they stamped down the stairs they again heard 
the cries and shrieks, apparently from the cellars. 

‘ What on earth can it be ? ’ asked Oliver. 

Guessing what the question was, the German 
prisoner replied in his own language, ‘The women 
and children are locked in the cellars. Major Munster 
said if the house was fired they should die too.’ 

Hardly were the words out of his mouth before 
Oliver and several others darted downstairs, and in 
two minutes nine pale and distraught women and 
children were liberated from a large cellar. Seeing 
the British uniforms, they sobbed hysterically, and 
clung to their rescuers, who carried the children, half- 
paralysed with fear, out into the street. 

Rock was particularly disgusted with one very 
dirty-looking female who, clinging to him, several 
times kissed him on both cheeks, raining tears on 
him, and calling him ‘ noble rescuer,’ ‘ gallant English- 
man,’ and ‘ saviour of Loos.’ 

‘ Let ’s get out o’ this ’ere,’ he cried ; ‘ I can’t stand 
this slobberin’. Ugh, they ’re worse than niggers ! ’ 

He went on, but Oliver and Vivian saw that the 
rescued natives were handed over to some Army 
Medical Corps men, and the prisoner was placed with 
a gang of others who were being marched to the 
rear. 

Passing along the street, Oliver and Vivian made 
for the end where the heaviest sounds of firing were 
coming from. Turning a corner, they came upon a 
strange sight. Several wounded British soldiers, 
amongst whom was a man of the Wessex, were lying 
on the pavement under the shelter of a house. A 
young girl, assisted by an orderly of the R.A.M.C., 
was tending them, when a party of Germans, in 


202 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


hasty retreat, dashed out of a side street. One fellow 
stopped, and, levelling his rifle, shot the R.A.M.C. man 
dead. Then, calling out to his companions, the 
German ran forward as though to seize the girl. 
She, however, stooping, took from the haversack 
of a Highlander, whom she had been tending, two 
bombs. Releasing the pins, she hurled them at the 
Germans, several of whom she killed. She then 
drew a revolver from her belt, and fired at the Huns, 
who seemed appalled at her heroism. When four 
of their number had fallen, the others made a 
rush with their bayonets; but Oliver and Vivian 
had seen enough to realise what was happening. 
Actuated by the same impulse, they fired and brought 
down two Germans, then dashed at two more with 
the bayonet, while the girl shot yet another with 
her revolver. Several Tommies at that moment 
appeared round the corner of the street, and the 
remaining Germans were in a second laid dead. 

‘Thank you, messieurs,’ said the girl in French, 
as Oliver and Vivian came up. ‘You arrived 
opportunely.’ 

The Englishmen were surprised to see that the 
fair fighter was a handsome girl not more than 
eighteen years of age. Oliver looked at her so 
fixedly, and with such evident surprise, that she 
smiled pleasantly, and said, ‘You wonder how I got 
here. I have been here all through the terrible 
time the Germans ’ — and at the mention of them her 
looks blackened — ‘have been here. Some of your 
brave countrymen liberated me, and I was doing 
what I could to help these poor soldiers’ — and as 
she looked down at the wounded men her face 
softened again — ‘ when — you saw what happened ; ’ 


THE CAPTURE OF LOOS. 


203 


and she shrugged her shoulders. ‘I have learnt to 
take care of myself in these months.’ 

" So we saw,’ said Vivian gallantly. ‘ With a nation 
that owns such daughters, what may we not expect 
from her sons ? ’ 

‘ Ah, monsieur flatters,’ she said with another smile. 
‘ If my countrymen are only as brave and as chival- 
rous as the English, then the Germans are already 
beaten ; ’ and she turned to give one of the wounded 
men a drink from a cup which stood upon the 
pavement. All this took place amidst the roar of 
guns and the rattle of musketry.* 

Oliver and Vivian, saluting the young girl, hurried 
on to find that the last Germans in Loos were being 
driven out, and by noon the British were in complete 
possession of the town. The men had been fighting 
for nearly six hours, and were both hungry and 
thirsty. A halt was made for a ration to be eaten , 
after which they prepared to hold Loos against the 
counter-attack which experience taught them the 
Germans would sooner or later launch against them. 

* Note C — The Heroine of Loos. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


CUT OFF FROM HELP. 


HE Territorial division was not, however, given 



1 the task of holding Loos; they had done so 
well, shown such dash and determination during the 
morning, that they were to be honoured by fighting 
side by side with some of the finest line battalions 
of the army. 

A cavalry brigade, dismounted, was marched into 
Loos to garrison the town, and the Wessex, with the 
other Territorials, filled up their pouches, renewed 
their stock of bombs, readjusted their kit, and, each 
man carrying a couple of sacks to form earthworks 
to protect the new position they meant to carry, 
marched off to the attack of Hill 70, where the battle 
was still being waged furiously. 

There were coal-pits both to the left and the right ; 
and they, together with Hill 70, were very strongly 
held by the enemy. 

The British artillery had advanced, and a tornado 
of shell was flung on the hill, smashing redoubts and 
trenches^ and blowing to pieces the wire entangle- 
ments with which the enemy so thoroughly defends 
his positions. 

Under cover of the artillery, the infantry advanced 
to the attack ; and though machine-gun and rifle fire 
was literally rained upon them, by successive rushes 
they advanced until only a hundred yards lay 
between them and the hill. The Germans were 


CUT OFF FROM HELP. 


205 


determined to hold this at all costs, and threw re- 
inforcements forward to defend it. The British 
artillery, however, played shrapnel upon them, and 
then with a curtain fire prevented further reinforce- 
ments being sent up, while the field batteries scorched 
and swept the hill. 

During this operation the infantry had to lie 
pressed to the ground; but directly the fire ceased 
the company officers cried out, ‘ Bombers to the front ! ’ 
and they and the supports, leaping to their feet, 
dashed forward. 

‘ Hot work ! ’ cried Oliver to Rock, as they raced 
side by side. 

‘The ’otter the better; it’ll be sooner over;’ and 
away they went over the shell-torn ground. 

Colonel Hastings was well in advance, and in three 
minutes they were at the front-line trenches. These 
had been so battered that there were few Germans 
left alive in them ; and, leaving these for the supports 
to deal with, the attackers, crossing the trench on 
planks brought for the purpose, swept on. 

At the second trench tough opposition was met 
with. Bombs and bayonets went to work, and foot 
by foot the trenches were captured. Onwards and up- 
wards the gallant Territorials pushed, losing heavily, 
but never pausing. Scores of deeds of heroism were 
performed, but passed unnoticed where every man 
was a hero. Steadily and persistently they pressed 
on until the crest was reached, and Hill 70 was won. 
The victorious and elated men gave a rousing 
cheer, and, without waiting for orders, descended 
the slope and wheeled to their right towards Cit4 
St Auguste. 

Sadly diminished in numbers, but not one whit 


206 


CUT OFF FROM HELP. 


dismayed, the Wessex were well in the van. Dorsets, 
Highlanders, Londoners, and Fusiliers were mixed 
up with them ; but it mattered nothing about 
regiments ; little groups under the platoon leaders 
kept together, and each tried to outdo the other in 
dash and bravery. 

Cite St Auguste was reached, and again there began 
a series of hand-to-hand fights with the Germans, 
who, driven forward by their officers from the neigh- 
bourhood of Lens, fought stubbornly and bravely. 

From street to street they retired, the British 
searching each house and killing or making prisoners 
all who were within. 

Oliver dashed into a big house without waiting to 
see whether he was followed. In a room on the first 
floor he found Ininself confronted by nine Germans. 
Two he immediately* shot, when the others, seeing 
only one enemy, dashed towards him. Oliver stood 
in the doorway with his bayonet at the charge, and 
cried out in stentorian tones, ‘ This way, bombers ! " 
as though he had a dozen men with him. The 
Germans had conceived a holy horror of those deadly 
British bombs, and immediately two threw up their 
hands with the customary cry of ‘ Kamerad ! ’ 

‘ Up with your hands, the rest of you,’ cried Oliver 
in German, ‘ or I ’ll blow you all to bits.’ 

Down went the weapons; up went their hands. 
Covering them with his rifle, Oliver said, ‘Out into 
the street,’ and the seven men meekly obeyed. When 
they saw that one man only had captured them they 
cast vindictive looks at Oliver; but by that time 
they were in the street, and a score of bayonets 
bristled round them. They were herded in with 
the other prisoners, and marched off; and, meeting 


CUT OFF FROM HELP. 207 

Vivian, Oliver told him with a grin what had 
happened. 

‘ I almost put my foot in it,’ he said ; ‘ and if the 
Boches hadn’t been in such a funk there would have 
been another vacancy in the company.’ 

*You ought to be more careful,’ replied Vivian. 

‘ For the rest of the day I shall keep my eye on you ; 
it ’s no good chucking away your life.’ 

On they passed, capturing houses right and left, 
until through sheer paucity of numbers they were 
brought to a standstill. It was then one o’clock, and 
the reserves ought to have been up, for the Germans 
were well on the run, and fresh troops could have 
pushed forward and carried Lens itself. 

‘We’ll hold on to what we’ve got,’ said Vivian; 
‘ the supports must soon be here, and with luck we ’ll 
get the Boches well on the move towards the Ehine.’ 

Crawford, with Travers and a few others, joined 
them, but they were too few to advance any farther. 

‘ Take a dozen men and hold that house, Crawford,’ 
said Vivian. ‘ We ’ll hold the one on this side. We 
can thus prevent the Boches getting through again 
till more of our fellows come up ; they can’t be long ; ’ 
and, in a few minutes, between them they occupied 
the two houses, which they prepared to hold until 
relieved. 

They had hardly left the street five minutes before 
German troops were seen advancing down it, evidently 
with the idea of driving out the British. 

‘ We must not let them pass us, Oliver,’ said Vivian, 
‘ or we shall be cut off. — Fill your magazines,’ he cried 
to the men, ‘and open fire.’ 

The Germans were within fifty yards of the house 
before the British made their presence known by 


208 


CUT OFF FROM HELP. 


pouring forth a regular hail of lead upon them. They 
wavered a moment ; then, taking a lesson from their 
enemies, and keeping well apart, they ran towards 
the two houses from which came the fire. The 
British, however, were all good shots, and the Boches 
fell fast. 

The enemy got up to the houses and endeavoured 
to force an entrance. Being close in under the 
windows, they were to a great extent shielded from 
the British fire, and it was clear that in a few minutes 
they would be in the house. 

‘ There are no more of them than of us,’ said Oliver ; 
‘ let ’s meet them with the bayonet ; they ’re not over- 
fond of cold iron.’ 

‘ That ’s the talk,’ growled Rock ; ‘ let ’s get out at 
’em. ’Ang this fightin’ in ’oles an’ corners ! ’ 

Descending the stairs, they formed into a compact 
body. Oliver then withdrew the bolts, flung wide 
the door, and after delivering one volley they dashed 
out. The Tommies gave a wild yell, then closed, and 
the Germans were hurled back. 

Crawford, again copying their example, also led 
out his men, and the Boches turned and ran ; where- 
upon the British got to work with the rifle, and 
very few of the enemy left the street alive. 

* Hurrah ! ’ cried Crawford ; ‘ that ’s a lesson for 
them, anyway.’ 

Attracted by the firing, several other details from 
various regiments — amongst them the survivors of 
a machine-gun detachment with their gun — came 
trooping into the street; and, joining up with Oliver’s 
party, they were divided between the two houses, 
forming quite a formidable garrison. The machine- 
gun was given to Crawford, who mounted it in 


209 


CUT OFF FROM HELP. 

an Upper room, whence he could sweep the street. 
Two men were sent back to ask for reinforcements, 
and the work of putting the houses in a state of 
•defence was continued. The doors were barricaded, 
loopholes knocked in the walls; earth, hastily dug 
from the gardens, was piled round the windows; 
buckets of water to extinguish flames were placed 
ready ; and the ammunition was equally divided. 

While they were at work the Germans, seeing that 
the first fury of the British attack had spent itself, 
and that the victors were so far unsupported, began 
a determined counter-attack. Along pretty well the 
whole length of the line fresh German troops, hurried 
up to the front, attacked fiercely. The British, on 
fresh ground, where there had been no time to dig 
in, had to face a terrific shelling and then furious 
infantry attacks. The elaborate subterranean con- 
structions of the Germans, which the British had so 
gallantly taken, had been rendered almost useless by 
the British artillery, and afforded but little shelter 
to the present holders. Under a pitiless rain of shells 
the British were slowly driven back from much of 
the ground they had captured. Hill 70 fell again 
into German hands, and the handful of British in 
Cit6 St Auguste were cut off, though they knew 
nothing of the fact. The only thing they did know 
was that the town was being subjected to a very 
fierce bombardment ; but they held grimly on, 
expecting every moment to hear the shouts of their 
comrades advancing to their relief. 


O.H. 


N 


CHAPTER X XVI 


CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 

HE afternoon wore on, and still there was no 



X news of any supporting force. Oliver and Vivian 
discussed the situation. There was not a sign of a 
German, with the exception of the bodies of the slain 
which lay in the street ; but the sounds of the fierce 
struggle raging all round them grew louder, if any- 
thing, as the day wore on, and it slowly became 
apparent that they were cut off. 

‘We’ll talk the matter over with Crawford,’ said 
Oliver; and he and Vivian crossed the street. It 
was unanimously decided that they should find out 
how matters really stood, and cautiously the three 
went to the western outskirts of the town, when they 
found that their suspicions had not been unfounded. 
The Hulluch-Lens road, which separated them from 
their own troops, was occupied by the enemy, who 
was moving artillery along it. The summit of Hill 
70, visible away on their right, was also in German 
hands, for the flashes of the guns showed that they 
were being fired in the direction of the British lines. 

‘We’re in for it,’ said Oliver; ‘our attack has been 
held up, and we ’re cut off.’ 

‘Our men have been pushed back. Something 
must have gone wrong with our supports, or else the 
French attack broke down,’ said Vivian. 

‘ The question is, what are we going to do ? ’ 

‘There can be no question about that,’ broke in 


CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 211 


Crawford hastily. *We have the glorious example 
of Marlborough and Wellington to live up to. We’ll 
hang on to our positions as long as one brick stands 
or one man lives.’ 

‘Crawford is right,’ agreed Vivian. ‘We’ll get 
back, tell the men how things are, and give the 
Boches all the trouble we can before they finish 
with us.’ 

One of the things that caused some anxiety was 
the limited amount of ammunition; and to obviate 
this the German rifles that lay about were collected, 
and the men’s pouches emptied. 

The cartridges were divided between the two 
houses, and orders given that when the attack came 
every shot must be made to tell. There were nineteen 
bombs amongst them, and it was decided that these 
. were to be kept until the last, as they might turn the 
scale in a tough struggle. The men were informed 
just how matters stood. 

‘ There are two courses open to us,’ explained 
Vivian. ‘We can fight to the last or surrender. 
You know how Germans treat their prisoners; if 
they don’t murder them outright, they are dragged 
through the country, beaten, and reviled, and finally 
penned up in some military camp, where they are 
starved, ill-treated, and used worse than the vilest 
criminals.’ 

‘ That ’s enough, sir,’ cried a lad of nineteen ; ‘ there ’s 
no man here will ever surrender.’ 

‘ ’E ’d better not think o’ it while I ’m around,’ said 
Rock. ‘There’ll be no ’ands uppin’ in my corner, 
I ’ll give you my word for it.’ 

‘We all understand, then,’ said Vivian. ‘Victory 
or death ! — that is the cry.’ 


212 CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 

As the evening began to fall there seemed a chance 
that they would not be attacked, and that under 
cover of darkness they might be able to draw off and 
escape through the enemy’s lines. But this hope was 
suddenly dispelled by a strong body of infantry 
coming down the street, searching each house as they 
came. 

‘They’re bound to find us,’ said A^ivian. ‘Now, 
men, take careful aim, and don’t fire till I tell you.’ 

It had been arranged that Crawford was to copy 
the example of Vivian and Oliver, so that there 
was no fear of his prematurely betraying their 
presence. 

Nearer the Germans came, and presently they 
reached the dead bodies of their countrymen who 
had fallen in the first attack on the house. They 
callously turned these over. Amongst them lay 
a dead Highlander, and several of the Germans 
wantonly stabbed the [body with their bayonets as 
they passed. 

‘ Pick those four men off*,’ ordered Vivian sternly. 
‘ Fire ! ’ and the four men, with several others, fell 
dead or wounded. 

Loud shouts broke from the Germans, and they 
fired wildly at the windows of the two houses, from 
which a biting fire had now been opened. The 
enemy fell in dozens, but others came swarming down 
the street, and many began hammering on the doors 
with their rifle-butts. The British fired fast and 
true, and the Germans, staggered by the losses they 
had sustained, broke and sought shelter in the neigh- 
bouring houses. Then a machine-gun was brought 
into the street, and a hurricane of lead poured at the 
windows. 


CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 213 

Vivian ordered the men to lie flat on the floor, and 
not to attempt to fire. The Germans, thinking they 
had killed the occupants of the houses, ventured 
into the street and endeavoured to effect an entrance. 
Again the British rifles spoke, and the Germans replied. 
But such was the accuracy of the British fire that 
once more the Germans retired. 

‘ First trick to us, anyhow ! ' said Oliver grimly. ‘ I 
wonder how the ammunition is holding out.’ 

This was found to be nearly exhausted, and the 
men took German rifles and cartridges. For half-an- 
hour there was a cessation of attack, and Crawford 
signalled across to his friends ‘All right!’ At the 
end of that time shells began to fall, and several 
houses were set on fire. It was then dark, but the 
flames lit up the street, and everything was as plain 
as in daylight. 

The shelling ceased, and parties of infantry again 
advanced, determined this time to carry the houses 
at the point of the bayonet. Fully two hundred 
men were massed in the street, and, while a hot 
fire was maintained upon the windows, soldiers 
threw incendiary bombs into the adjacent buildings 
and up at the windows of the houses held by the 
British. 

‘ It ’s time we brought our bombs into play,’ said 
Oliver ; and, on his giving the order, six were 
hurled amongst the crowd below. Crawford followed 
suit, and the scene that ensued was ghastly in the 
extreme. Dozens of Germans were literally blown 
to pieces, and thb others, with wild yells, again 
retreated. 

The defenders had, however, suffered serious losses, 
and, to make matters worse, the house Oliver and 


214 CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 

Vivian were defending had caught fire, and it was 
impossible to hold it any longer. 

‘Let s join Crawford,’ said Vivian; and, tearing 
down the obstacles in front of the street door, they 
shouted their intention. 

Crawford undid his door, and the survivors, now 
not many in number, ran across, taking their wounded 
with them. Hardly had they done so than a rumble 
of wheels was heard, and at the end of the street a 
light field gun was seen being dragged into position 
by a dozen gunners. 

‘ This complicates matters,’ said Vivian ; ‘ we can’t 
hold the place against artillery.’ 

‘ We can capture the gun, though ! ’ cried Crawford 
gallantly. ‘Better to die in action than remain here 
and be blown to pieces.’ 

‘ But there ’s the wounded ; we can’t leave them.’ 

‘ There ’s a back exit from this house which opens 
into a street behind. Let some of us retire with the 
wounded and endeavour in the confusion to reach 
our own lines ; the others can charge and capture the 
gun.’ 

‘ I ’ll do that,’ cried Vivian. 

‘I’m hanged if you do! That’s my job,’ said 
Crawford. 

Oliver was equally persistent, and it was decided 
to draw for it. The lot to retreat with the wounded 
fell to Vivian, who could hardly conceal his chagrin. 

By that time the Germans were blazing with the 
gun at the house Oliver and Vivian had left. 

‘ Our turn will come next,’ said Oliver. ‘ Now the 
sooner we start the better.’ 

Vivian, with the wounded, left the house by the 
rear; the machine-gunner was told to sweep the 


CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 215 


street with his gun, and when he ceased firing Craw- 
ford and Oliver were to lead a dozen men in a charge 
up the street to silence the gun. 

Behind this piece large numbers of Germans had 
gathered watching the effect of the shells. 

All being ready, the remainder of the bombs being 
taken with the party, a shrill whistle was blown as 
the sign for the machine-gunner to open fire, and a 
stream of lead poured from the gun. The Germans 
were astounded, as they had no idea the British had a 
machine-gun with them. There were only two belts 
of cartridges, so that the attack had to be pushed on 
without delay. 

The Germans again rushed to shelter, leaving the 
gun. 

‘ Now, boys,’ cried Crawford, ‘ follow me, shoulder 
to shoulder, in the good old English fashion.’ 

‘No; keep apart!’ yelled Oliver; but Crawford, 
wild to be first at the foe, had gone, and Oliver had 
to race to keep up with him. 

The machine-gun cartridges were exhausted, and 
directly the fire ceased the Germans returned to their 
gun. Crawford was dashing for it, straight in line 
with its muzzle. 

‘Keep to the side of the street,’ yelled Oliver; 
‘ they ’re going to fire 1 ’ 

But Crawford turned with a smile upon his 
face, and, waving his revolver, cried, ‘ British 
officers never avoid danger. Forward!’ and kept 
straight on. 

There followed a blinding flash, a deafening roar, 
and a dose of grape belched from the gun. 

There was no time to see who had fallen. Oliver, 
Rock, Travers, and several others reached the gun 


216 CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 

before it could be fired again. In a second the 
gunners were bayoneted; then a bomb was thrown 
into the muzzle, half-a-dozen were flung into the 
houses on either side, and away they started on their 
return. 

A figure in khaki lay in the middle of the road, 
his head and part of his body literally blown to 
pieces. 

Oliver paused, and gave one look at the high leather 
boots, the Sam Browne belt, and the revolver still 
clutched in the hand of the corpse. Alas ! there was 
no chance of identifying it by any other means ; but 
he recognised the small form, and a big sob escaped 
him. Crawford, ‘the General,’ gallant little soldier 
and gentleman, had met a hero’s death. Three other 
men had also been killed by the discharge. 

Oliver took Crawford’s revolver as a memento, and 
then raced back to the house. They entered, barred 
the door, destroyed the machine-gun, and started off 
by the back exit after Vivian. 

The Germans, cowed by the determined resistance 
of the ‘ English swine,’ seemed inclined to leave it to 
the rapidly spreading flames to destroy them. Should 
they be driven forth by the flames, the Germans, 
hiding in the houses around, were ready to shoot 
them down, and this could be done with no danger to 
themselves. 

Meanwhile Oliver had joined Vivian, and sorrow- 
fully told him of Crawford’s death. 

‘We’ve lost a good chum and the service a gallant 
officer,’ said Vivian sadly. ‘Hang it! why didn’t I, 
as his superior, order him to go away with the 
wounded ? ’ 

‘ He ’d have felt slighted if you had,’ said Oliver. 


CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 217 

‘He was touchy about being considered inexperi- 
enced.’ 

‘ Well, we ’re not out of the wood yet. We have 
the men still to think of.’ 

By the glare of the burning village they were 
enabled to steer clear of Hill 70; and, keeping that 
on their right, the flashes from the guns guiding 
them, they entered a narrow lane. The rain was 
falling in torrents, and the night was dark. Every 
one had been practically wet through the whole day, 
but no one had noticed it. 

Leaving the lane, Oliver and his party reached a 
plain, where they stumbled over dead or dying 
Germans at almost every step. 

‘ We must be crossing the scene of one of our big 
attacks,’ said Vivian. ‘ Our position should be some- 
where straight in front.’ 

‘ Goodness knows where our lines are now ! ’ replied 
Oliver. ‘It depends on how successful the German 
counter-attack has been.’ 

At that instant a flare went up, and showed a 
party of Germans only a few yards awaj^ One of 
these immediately fired, and Eock gave a muttered 
cry and seized Oliver’s left arm. 

‘Don’t fire; use the bayonet,’ cried Oliver; and 
those who were unburdened rushed at the Germans. 

The flare showed the black iron structure of the 
‘Tower Bridge’ looming almost directly on their 
front, and they knew they were going in the right 
direction. 

The Germans, hearing English spoken, immediately 
threw up their arms, shouting, ‘Kamerad ! ’ 

‘ Confound them ! why didn’t they fight ? ’ said 
Oliver, * What are we going to do with all these 


218 CRAWFORD ACTS UP TO HIS PRINCIPLES. 

fellows ? ’ In German he cried to the men, ‘ Throw 
down your rifles, and take oflf your side-arms. Any 
sign of treachery will mean your instant death.’ 

‘ Trust us, Herr Officier,' said one of the men. ‘ We 
belong to the 126th Saxon Regiment, and are sick of 
the war. We were making our way over to the 
English to surrender, and thought you were Germans ; 
that was why we fired.’ 

‘ Well, remain where you are for a moment,’ said 
Oliver ; ‘ and, remember, no tricks ! ’ 

‘ We can lead you to the English lines,’ said one of 
the men ; ‘ we know where our own troops are.’ 

It was found that Rock had been shot through the 
arm, a painful wound. He vowed vengeance on all 
Germans while his wound was being dressed. This 
done, the Germans were made to carry the English 
wounded, and then they all went silently forward. 

In a quarter of an hour they were challenged by a 
British sentry, and Oliver managed to convince the 
soldier they were friends. In half-an-hour they were 
safe within the British lines, the prisoners were 
handed over, and then, thoroughly exhausted, all 
sank on the ground and fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XXVIL 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 

HE few survivors from Cite St Auguste, 



JL although their sleep was one of absolute ex- 
haustion, were not allowed to slumber long. The 
position was serious, and soon after dawn they were 
aroused. The morning was fine but cold, and the 
sun shone brilliantly. The scenes in Loos were 
ghastly. Corpses lay everywhere; operations were 
being performed upon the wounded amidst burst- 
ing shells. Supply and ammunition carts were 
rumbling in ; loads of wounded were going out. 

Breakfast, thanks to the magnificent service of the 
commissariat, was obtainable ; after which Oliver 
learnt that the remainder of the Wessex, with the 
Highlanders, were holding on to the western slopes of 
Hill 70. They had a desperate job, but were making 
the best of it. 

It was known that the British had been hung up 
by barbed wire in their attack upon Hulluch, and the 
effort had failed. The French had not been able to 
attack on the previous day until 1 p.m. instead of at 
6.30 A.M., and that had a great deal to do with the 
checking of the British success. 

‘ Well, our place is with our comrades,* said Vivian, 
and away the survivors of the Wessex went. Rock 
insisting on going with them. 

‘I can use my right arm, any’ow,’ he said; ‘an’ 
that *8 enough for any bloomin’ ’Un.’ 


220 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


To Oliver’s joy, he found that his father had come 
through safely so far; and the Colonel was no less 
delighted to see his son and Vivian safe. The news 
of Crawford’s heroic death caused much sorrow. 

‘ You must write me an oflBcial account of the 
deed, and I ’ll forward it to the General,’ said the 
Colonel. ‘ I will try at least to get a D.S.O. for his 
relations to keep.’ 

Skinner, who had also come through safely, was 
much affected. ‘ First Harris, now Crawford ; only 
me left in a few weeks of our Crowborough class. 
It makes a chap think.’ 

But there was little time that day to think. The 
Germans made a series of most violent attacks, and 
hour after hour the courage of the troops was tried 
to the utmost to meet them. Finally arrest them 
they could not, and gradually the overwhelming 
hordes of Germans drove the British back foot by 
foot. The enemy machine-gun fire was terrific, and 
by noon they had regained Pit 14 his and the redoubt 
on Hill 70. 

By nightfall the troops had lost no more ground, 
though their loss in men had been heavy. Still, they 
had made the enemy pay a big price. Besides his 
enormous losses in dead and wounded, two thousand 
six hundred prisoners, nine guns, and a number of 
machine-guns had been captured, and Loos remained 
in British hands. 

News was also received that the French had 
captured Souchez and two thousand Germans; so 
that, as Vivian said, the sun was not shining ex- 
clusively for the Bodies. 

The Wessex had been fighting almost continuously 
for forty-eight hours, and there seemed no chance of 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


221 


any relief. They had lost heavily too; but there 
was no prospect of an exchange from the trenches, 
and as soon as it was dark they were moved up, 
nearer to Hulluch. 

Irritated by the pain of his wound. Rock was more 
than usually surly. ‘ Blest if I don’t think it ’s done 
o’ purpose,’ he growled. ‘ When we might ha’ ’ad 
’arf-an-hour’s nap, oh no, out you come, do a mile’s 
trudge in sludge an’ muck up to your neck, an’ get 
into another trench as bad as the one you ’re leavin’, 
an’ shift the other fellows over ’ere.’ 

‘Bear up. Cheery; it won’t last for ever,’ said 
Oliver. 

‘ No more shall I, thank God ! If I thought I 
should I ’d blow my brains out this moment.’ 

‘ Which is a trifle contradictory,’ said Oliver, who 
was feeling quite as much annoyed as Rock, but had 
to set an example. 

They had not been in the new part of the 
trenches long before Colonel Hastings sought out 
Oliver and Vivian. ‘ I know you lads have had a 
more trying time than the rest of us lately,’ he said ; 
‘but I’m going to ask you whether you feel up to 
making another effort.’ 

‘ We ’re ready as long as we can keep on our feet,’ 
said Vivian. ‘ What is it. Colonel ? ’ 

‘ Well, the General in command here tells me that 
about three-quarters of a mile from our front there is 
an old chateau which has in some miraculous fashion 
escaped much of the knocking about by both sides. 
Now, to-morrow it ’s expected we shall have to make 
another advance, and it is very important that we 
should know whether the enemy are holding the 
place in numbers, whether it ’s entrenched, and 


222 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


what sort of an -obstacle it might prove to our 
advance.’ 

‘ Our guns could surely blow it up/ said Oliver. 

‘ Of course ; but our people want to know whether 
the enemy have any trenches in front of it Our 
aircraft men are not unanimous about it’ 

* It ’s a case for personal reconnaissance ? ’ 

‘I think it is; and if any one can successfully 
discover the facts, you and Vivian are the two. In 
fact, I ’ve got nobody else I can send.’ 

‘We ’ll do it/ said Vivian. 

• ‘For heaven’s sake be careful!’ said the Colonel. 

‘ It ’s a duty fraught with the greatest danger, and I 
shall be on tenterhooks while you 're away.’ 

‘ Oh, we shall be all right Our knowledge of the 
language will enable us to fool the Boches if we run 
across any ; and if it should come to a fight, I dare 
say we shall have our usual luck.’ 

‘ Take a man or two with you.’ 

‘ I think this job is better undertaken alone. — Don’t 
you, Oliver ? ’ 

‘ Yes, unless we take Rock.’ 

‘ You forget his wounded arm.’ 

‘ Oh, yes ! Then we ’ll go alone.’ 

Revolvers, trench -daggers, pocket- torches, and a 
couple of flarelights constituted all their equip- 
ment. 

When Rock found his masters were going out .on 
a reconnaissance he announced his intention of 
accompanying them ; and when he was told that on 
account of his arm he could not, he became almost 
mutinous. The argument attracted the attention of 
Travers, who, learning what was afoot, begged to be 
taken. 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


223 


‘ I ’m afraid this is a job where a knowledge of the 
language is necessary/ said Oliver. 

‘You can keep your ears open, sir/ said Travers, 
‘and you need not fear me opening my mouth. You 
have worked with me before, and know I can be 
trusted.’ 

‘ It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take him,’ whispered 
Vivian ; ‘ he ’s a splendid fellow in a corner, and as 
silent in his work as old Rock himself.’ 

So, some half-hour later, three figures crept over 
the parapet and proceeded on all-fours for a hundred 
yards, till they were so smothered in mud that they 
were almost indistinguishable from the sea of mud 
around them. 

Rising to their feet, they went along, taking 
advantage of shell-holes, mine-craters, and bits of 
scrubby bush. 

Owing to the configuration of the ground, the 
Germans at that particular spot, after being driven 
from their trenches, had not again dug themselves in 
in the usual fashion, with trenches extending all along 
the front, communicating with support-trenches, but 
had dug pits, which were strongly held by machine- 
gun parties. The pits were not difficult to avoid by 
a small party, and by crawling along on their 
stomachs the three passed safely. 

Past the rifie-pits they heard Germans talking and 
moving about, and had but little difficulty in avoid- 
ing them. By that time they were such a mass of 
mud that no one could have said whether their uniform 
was British or German. 

They presently came in sight of the big chateau, 
and from the sounds it was clear that there was con- 
siderable activity there. 


224 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


Occasional firing was going on along the British 
and the German lines, and this was useful in keeping 
them well informed of their relative position. 

The chateau stood back from the road, and 
appeared to be surrounded by a strong wall. By 
making a circuit of the place it was found that 
there were no trenches. The chateau had large 
entrance-gates, just inside which were two lanterns, 
their light carefully shaded. Their rays, however, 
revealed the fact that a couple of sentries were keep- 
ing guard inside the gates, and, of course, there was 
no chance of getting into the house by that way. 
Watching from behind a transport wagon which 
had been overturned close to the gates, they noticed 
that a number of men were going in, carrying boxes 
like ammunition boxes. 

‘ Strange, if they intend holding the place, as the 
carting in of ammunition implies, that they haven’t 
thrown up any works outside,’ whispered Vivian. 

‘We sha’n’t be able to find out much from here,’ 
replied Oliver in the same low tones. ‘I wonder 
whether we could get inside.’ 

‘By Jove! it’s a great idea,’ said Vivian; and the 
three crept away from the front of the chateau to 
the back, where, sheltering under the wall, they 
discussed the possibility of success. It was just one 
of those daring exploits, with apparently little chance 
of succeeding, which is so dear to the British heart. 
It is the almost impossibility of success, in most 
cases, which carries the thing through. 

In five minutes the three soldiers had found a 
scalable place in the wall, had got over, and were in 
the garden, listening intently for any sound. All 
being quiet, they crept towards the house, dimly 



Vivian grappled with the Prussian, and a fierce struggle begnn. 

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TBAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


225 


visible in the watery moonlight. The windows of 
the chateau were all heavily shuttered or else pro- 
vided with dark blinds ; only very faint rays of light 
escaped, but the sounds of voices within were quite 
audible. Also, other sounds, clearly those of pick and 
shovel, were heard. When the three men crept to 
the side of the chateau the sounds got fainter, and 
it was evident that the work was going on principally 
at the back of the house. 

‘ There ’s a door here unlocked,’ whispered Travers. 
‘ I tried the handle and it yielded.’ 

The others turned, and saw that this was so. 

‘We’ll just have a look inside, anyway,’ said 
Vivian. — ‘Travers, in case we are discovered, don’t 
speak ; just leave Mr Hastings and me to bluff a way 
out. If it comes to fighting, follow our example.’ 

They passed through the door, along a quite dark 
passage, up a few steps, then into a fairly well-lighted 
hall. Crossing this, they saw a small room, which 
had once been elegantly furnished, but which had 
suffered greatly at the hands of the Huns. Mud 
was all over the fine carpet, pictures and mirrors had 
been wantonly smashed, and the cheery fire burning 
in the grate seemed to consist largely of picture- 
frames and chair-legs. 

‘We shall probably find the officer in command in 
the best part of the house,’ whispered Oliver. ‘ Let ’s 
peep in.’ 

The centre of the room, which had evidently been 
fitted up as a kind of snuggery, was occupied by a 
round table covered with a heavy damask cloth which 
reached to the floor. Putting one finger on his lips, 
Oliver motioned to Travers to hide under the table, 
which he did. 

O.H. 


o 


226 


TUAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER, 


The small room led to what had once been the 
library, the door opening from the left. Oliver 
approached on tiptoe, and, getting behind the door, 
peeped through the crack. 

Voices could be heard in the room ; and as Oliver 
glanced in he saw an officer, a red-faced, obese Prussian 
of the worst type, sitting at the table. 

A sergeant was putting some tools into a bag ; and, 
having finished, he clicked his heels and saluted. 
‘There is nothing else, Herr Major?’ he said. 

‘No,’ replied the major, puffing a huge cloud of 
smoke from his mouth; ‘go, and send me along 
Herr Lieutenant Bebel.’ 

The man saluted and departed ; and Vivian, know- 
ing that he was coming out, had joined Travers 
under the table. Oliver, gripping his revolver firmly, 
pressed himself almost fiat behind the door, and the 
sergeant passed without noticing him. Then, creep- 
ing as quietly as a mouse, Oliver joined the others 
under the table, and they waited till the rattle of a 
sword-scabbard was heard, and some one crossed the 
cosy little room and entered the library. 

‘ Come in, Bebel,’ cried the major’s voice ; and then 
followed the clink of glasses and a bottle. 

Oliver and Vivian crawled out, and again hid 
behind the door. 

‘ Everything is now ready, Bebel,’ said the major. 
‘ Kaltschmidt has finished the wiring ; in half-an-hour 
all the explosives will be in position, and everything 
will be prepared for the reception of our friends the 
English, if they reach as far as this to-morrow.’ 

‘ Good, major ! ’ 

‘Under that box’ — the major pointed to a side- 
table on which lay a small wooden box — ‘are the 


TRAVEKS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


227 


two ends of the live wires; a small push connects 
them. One little pressure, and you and I and — 
how many men have we got here, Bebel ? — about 
four hundred go up so — pouf! ’ and he made a puffing 
noise with his mouth. 

‘ Don’t talk about it ; the idea makes me feel cold.’ 

‘You’ll be colder still, Bebel, when you are here 
by yourself,’ guffawed the major. 

‘Shall I be left?’ 

‘Assuredly. The Engineers are running a wire 
back to headquarters ; when that is done, Kaltschmidt 
will make a connection from there to our little box. 
I shall press a button at the moment when the 
English pigs swarm into the chateau, and up they 
go. You have to remain here and see the connection 
made.’ 

‘ Can’t Beyer do that, major ? ’ 

‘No,’ replied the major harshly ; ‘I must have some 
one on whom I can depend. You know the General ; 
I have his positive orders. But there ’ll be no danger 
to you. In two hours’ time we withdraw most of 
our men, and send those Saxon fools to take their 
place. A few of our own regiment will have to 
remain as well ; and I ’ll give you a list of names, all 
those of special friends of mine’ — and the major 
smiled ferociously — ‘ who ’ll be left. They ’ll remain 
to prevent any suspicion. Then, when the English 
get in, up go the lot.’ 

‘A pretty plan,’ said the lieutenant with dry 
lips. 

‘Very ! A victory for the Fatherland, Bebel, and a 
paying off of old debts for me ! Now, another glass 
of wine, and away you go. I shall leave here in 
half-an-hour.’ 


228 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


The major rose from his chair, took a handsome 
volume from a shelf, tore out a leaf, relit his cigar, 
and threw the volume on the fire. 

The lieutenant was drinking his glass of wine, 
when with startling suddenness a shell burst just 
outside the window. 

‘ Qott im Himmel ! what ’s that ? ’ cried Bebel, and 
he dashed out into the small room, almost running 
into Oliver’s arms. 

‘ Stop him ! ’ cried Vivian ; ‘ he must not escape.’ 

Travers came out from under the table and threw 
himself on the lieutenant, while Vivian darted into 
the library to deal with the major. 

Suspicious, as are all his nation, the Prussian, at 
the first sound of a scuffle, had snatched up his 
revolver, and as Vivian sprang toward him, without 
waiting to ask whether this mud-covered stranger 
was friend or foe, he fired. The bullet took off 
Vivian’s cap; the second would in all probability 
have crashed into his brain, but the hammer fell and 
there was no report; the pistol had contained only 
one cartridge 1 

Before the error could be rectified Vivian grappled 
with the Prussian, and a fierce struggle began. The 
major shouted for help, but Vivian cried, ‘Hold 
your tongue; I have two companions in the next 
room, and if you raise any alarm your doom is 
sealed.’ 

The Prussian, however, continued to cry out, where- 
upon Travers came gliding into the room. The 
major, a bigger and more powerful man than Vivian, 
was getting the upper hand, when Travers, waiting 
his opportunity, stabbed him with the naked bayonet 
he held in his hand. 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


229 


The Prussian’s grasp relaxed, his face turned a 
greeny gray, and after a few convulsive struggles he 
rolled over lifeless. 

‘You’ve probably saved me, Travers, though I’m 
sorry the beggar’s killed. I should have liked to 
give him a sporting chance for his life.’ 

‘ Bah, sir I there ’s only one way to deal with these 
fellows ; you must kill them, or they ’ll kill you.’ 

‘ What of the other officer ? ’ 

‘ We ’ve got him safe enough,’ said Oliver, who then 
entered the room. ‘ I tapped him on the head, and 
he ’ll be quiet for some time.’ 

‘ I wonder whether the row will bring any one in 
here,’ said Vivian a little anxiously. ‘ Let ’s get this 
fellow out of sight, anyway.’ 

The major was rolled away under some curtains 
that hung beneath the bookshelves covering the 
walls. 

‘We must secure our friend the lieutenant too,’ 
said Oliver ; ‘ he may come round at any minute.’ 

Bebel was gagged, his arms and legs tightly secured 
with the curtain-cords which Vivian tore down, and 
he, too, was placed under the curtains in the library. 
While this was being done by Vivian and Travers, 
Oliver, revolver in hand, stood just inside the door 
of the small room, ready to tackle any one who might 
enter. But German officers do not welcome intruders 
into their quarters every time a pistol-shot may be 
heard there ; and, whether the noise of the scuffle was 
heard or not, no one came in. 

‘ We must get away quietly,’ said Vivian ; ‘ but first 
we’ll have a look round for any papers that may be 
of use if we get back safely.’ 

While he was looking at the letters lying on the 


230 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


table, Oliver examined the two wires in the box on 
the side-table. 

‘ We learnt that the place is mined, and has been 
prepared as a trap for our men to-morrow,’ he 
explained to Travers. ‘These two wires form the 
connection. If I were to press this button it would 
blow the chateau, ourselves, and some three or four 
hundred Germans to Kingdom Come. If any of 
them should get in here before we ’re clear off, I ’m 
hanged if I wouldn’t do it, too, rather than be 
taken.’ 

‘ Four hundred Germans ! ’ said Travers, wetting 
his lips with his tongue. ‘ Four hundred at one blow ! 
I could die happy.’ 

‘We’ll have them all right,’ said Vivian, his 
search being finished. ‘ When we get back we can 
telephone to our batteries, which will drop half-a- 
dozen presents from the four-inch, and the chateau 
will go up like a rocket.’ 

‘We’d better be getting away too,’ said Oliver; 
‘ all seems quiet.’ 

‘ Put on these things, Travers,’ said Vivian as he 
took the major’s cloak and cap from a chair where 
they had been thrown. ‘Mr Hastings and I may 
get through, as we speak the language fluently, and 
in the darkness you may pass for our dead Prussian 
friend. Anyhow, the cloak and cap would command 
respect.’ 

Travers did as he was bid ; and then, after pressing 
their ears to the door, and finding all was quiet, they 
ventured out. They went along the passage, down 
the stairs, and safely gained the door leading into 
the garden. 

‘ Luck favours us,’ whispered Oliver gleefully. ‘ I 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 281 

feel like a burglar who has just made a successful 
haul of forks and spoons.’ 

‘ How do you know how such a fellow feels ? ’ 
asked Vivian. ‘I shall feel much happier when I’m 
back in our own lines.’ 

They crossed the garden, and Oliver and Vivian 
scaled the wall. Travers was about to follow, 
when suddenly a starlight went up, lighting up all 
the surrounding country. A party of Germans, not 
ten yards away, saw the two British officers on the 
wall, and one yelled out, * The enemy ! Fire, Ludwig ! 
fire ! ’ and a rifle banged off. 

' Hang it, we ’re done ! ’ cried Oliver. ‘ They ’ll give 
the alarm, and we shall never get back. Our fellows 
will fall into the trap after all.’ 

‘ No, they won’t,’ shouted Travers, who had climbed 
to the top of the wall. ‘ Run for your lives, gentle- 
men ! In one minute the chateau and all in it will 
go into the air. Good-bye, and God bless you both ! ’ 

‘ Come back, Travers ! Don’t be a fool,’ shouted 
Vivian; and Oliver too cried, ‘Come back! We still 
have a chance.’ 

But Travers’s footsteps were already heard running 
across the garden, and Vivian said, ‘ Good God, Oliver, 
what shall we do ? ’ 

‘ We can do nothing,’ replied Oliver. ‘ We cannot 
possibly save him ; we had better do as he said.’ 

The Germans, only one of whom apparently had 
a rifle, stood as though undecided how to proceed. 
Acting on a sudden impulse, Oliver cried, ‘ The ground 
on which you stand is mined. In one minute the 
mine will be exploded. Run for your lives.’ 

The Germans gave a sort of gasp ; then one turned 
and ran, and the others followed. 


232 


TRAVERS AVENGES HIS BROTHER. 


‘ This way, Vivian,’ cried Oliver, and they ran off 
in an opposite direction. They had not gone very 
far before the whole country was lit up by a blinding 
flash, there was a roar as of a thousand mortars, and 
a mighty wind caught up Oliver and Vivian and 
hurled them to the ground, where they lay half- 
unconscious for some time. Presently they got on 
their feet, dazed and shaken. All was quiet and 
dark. 

‘ Let us get back to our lines,’ whispered Oliver ; 
‘ that is, if God wills it. We have had a marvellous 
escape.’ 

‘And Travers has avenged his brother’s loss. 
Noble soul 1 he died a hero’s death.’ 

‘ Amen 1 ’ said Oliver ; and they crept quietly away 
in the darkness. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


r hour after Travers had blown the chateau, 



XjL himself, and some hundreds of the enemy into 
the air, Oliver and Vivian — wet to the skin, caked 
with mud, and utterly exhausted — after several very 
narrow shaves crawled over the parapet of the British 
trench. Their escape had been due more to luck 
than judgment; but the explosion, taking place in 
rear of their lines, had drawn the attention of the 
Germans more in that direction than in that of the 
British, and Oliver and Vivian had managed to slip 
through. 

It was not their own part of the British front 
that they reached, but they received almost as warm 
a welcome as they would have got there. They 
explained the cause of the explosion, which had, of 
course, been both seen and heard for miles around, 
and Travers’s heroism caused a thrill of pride to 
vibrate in the hearts of those who heard the story. 

The two young oflScers reached their own lines, 
and made their report to the Colonel. 

‘ Thank Heaven you are safe 1 ’ he said when they 
had finished. ‘ When I saw the flash of the explosion 
I gave you both up for lost. Poor Travers! he has met 
a hero’s death, and will be a great loss to the battalion. 
But you lads are done up. Something warm to eat, 
and a change of clothes, are what you really want; 
but I am afraid these are out of the question.’ 


234 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


‘Not where Dick Rock is/ said a voice behind 
them; and the old soldier, his left arm tied up in 
a blood-stained towel, stepped out of the darkness. 

‘ If you ’d ha taken me you wouldn’t ha’ come back 
in this mess,’ he said reprovingly; ‘an’ I doubt if 
you’d ha’ lost George Travers. Anyway, you can 
tell me ’ow it all ’appened while you ’re dryin’ your- 
selves. Come along o’ me.’ 

As an officer’s servant Rock was little short of a 
marvel. He had taken possession of an old dugout, 
and with the aid of a few planks and a tarpaulin 
had managed to make it fairly waterproof on top. 
The mud and refuse had been swept from the floor, 
a couple of ammunition boxes provided for seats, 
an oil lantern for illumination, a heap of straw on 
a few planks in one corner served as a bed, and, 
best of all, a biscuit-tin, standing on four empty 
shell-cases, and full of glowing charcoal, diffused a 
genial heat all over the dugout. 

‘Upon my word. Rock,’ said Oliver, ‘you’re a 
perfect genius ! ’ 

‘ It ’s taken you some time to find it out,’ growled 
Rock. ‘ ’Owsomever, I ’m used to ingratitood ; never 
’ad nothink else all my life.’ 

Oliver and Vivian dropped down on the straw, 
and Rock took the lid off a billy that was standing 
in front of the fire, liberating a most appetising 
odour. 

‘By Jove, Cheery! what have you got there?’ 
asked Vivian, sniffing hungrily. 

‘ Mulligatawny soup, boiled mutton an’ capers, 
roast pork, turkey, jugged hare, an’ beefsteak- 
puddin’. Which will you ’ave ? ’ 

‘ Whatever happens to be in the billy ; ’ and in 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


235 


another couple of minutes Oliver and Vivian were 
eating an excellent stew made from ration beef and 
an onion, which Kock had managed to ‘ borrow ’ from 
‘ over there.* 

While they were eating, the oflScers related what 
had happened at the chateau. 

Rock was very silent during the recital, and when 
it was finished he said in a rather husky voice, ‘ ’E 
oughter come back when you called ’im ; no good ever 
comes o’ disobeyin’ orders.’ Then after a few seconds’ 

pause, * But, by ! ’e was a man, an’ no braver 

ever served in the old Fightin’ Fifth.’ 

A tot of rum following the stew, Oliver and 
Vivian sank down on the straw ; and, although 
heavy firing from both sides went on all night, they 
slept soundly. 

They did not awake till some time after daybreak, 
when they jumped up, ashamed at having slept so 
long. The morning was dull and heavy, and a 
cold rain was falling in torrents. Heavy artillery 
firing was going on, the Germans violently attacking 
Souchez, in order to drive out the French, and the 
great Hohenzollern Redoubt, whence they hoped to 
hurl the British. 

During the night the magnificent British Guards 
division had been moved up to Loos, and airmen 
reported that two divisions of the Prussian Guard 
had been hurriedly brought back from the eastern 
front, so that the British high command knew there 
would be heavy fighting that day. 

In the morning the Grenadier and Coldstream 
Guards, splendid-looking men, moved up into the 
front trenches, and the Wessex and other Territorial 
regiments moved back as a support. Vivian gazed 


236 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


with pride at his old regiment, the Coldstreamers, 
but, alas ! it was not the battalion which had faced 
the foe so heroically at Mons and Landrecies. They 
had all vanished ; but their successors were clearly 
of the same stamp, though younger and less experi- 
enced soldiers. That day was to show that they 
were ready to live up to the traditions of the British 
Guards. 

Early in the morning the Germans poured forth a 
terrific artillery fire on the whole position, from La 
Bassee to Lens. It was particularly violent in the 
region of Loos, Hill 70, and the Hohenzollern Redoubt. 
The British guns replied no less determinedly, and a 
fierce duel was maintained. Then the enemy tried 
to launch a gas attack, but the wind was unfavour- 
able. Lachrymatory shells were dropped, and a fierce 
infantry attack was made ; but the British stood firm. 
What they had won by days of fierce fighting, and 
paid for with the blood of gallant comrades, they 
would hold while they had life, and the fierce attacks 
were beaten back. 

The Wessex, though under shell-fire all the time, 
were little more than spectators of the morning’s 
fighting. Their turn did not come until the after- 
noon. News was received that the British, attacked 
by overwhelming numbers, had been slowly forced 
back to the eastern portion of the Hohenzollern 
Redoubt, that the General in command had been 
killed, and that, in spite of the most determined 
efforts, the British had been unable to recapture the 
lost ground. 

‘We’ll see whether we can’t make up for our 
reverse there by smashing the enemy in front of us,’ 
said the Brigadier-General of the Guards grimly to 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


237 


his regifaiental officers, and the arrangements were 
hurriedly made. 

From the trenches in which the Wessex were a 
good view across the shallow valley could be obtained. 
In their front was a chalk-pit, with some ruined brick 
cottages and a spinney round them ; to their left the 
ugly chimney of Mine 14 bis, surrounded by the 
entrenchments and sand-bag parapets known as 
the Keep; away to the right Hill 70, the redoubt on 
its farther side being hidden by the crest. 

The British guns carefully prepared the position; 
and at four o’clock the Irish Guards, marching 
as steadily as though on a ceremonial parade at 
Wellington Barracks, advanced towards the spinney. 
A rousing cheer from the supports rang out. At the 
same time, with a truly terrific Scotch yell, the Scots 
Guards, advancing under a perfect hell of shrapnel, 
rushed down the slope and made for Pit 14 and the 
Keep. 

Every man in the support -trenches, heedless of 
danger, was standing on the parapet cheering wildly. 
They saw the colonel of the Scots fall; but the 
major took his place, and they raced on. One after 
another the officers went down ; in sixes the men 
dropped, but not a man faltered; and presently, in 
spite of a tremendous machine-gun fire, they reached 
the buildings and disappeared amongst them. The 
Irish had been driven back at first, but had rallied, 
and had then occupied the spinney. 

‘ What magnificent fellows ! What bravery ! ’ cried 
Vivian. ‘Oh Oliver, there are no troops like the 
Guards in the world ; but they will be exterminated. 
Why don’t they send us on in support ? ’ 

As though in answer to his question, the Cold- 


238 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


streamers were seen advancing on the chalk-pit, while 
two companies of Grenadiers went racing to support 
the Scots, and the fighting became murderous in its 
intensity. 

The moment had arrived for the attack on Hill 70 
to be made, and Grenadier and Welsh Guards, the 
latter under fire for the first time, entered the com- 
munication-trenches that led to the summit of Hill 
70. The Wessex were moved up in support, the men 
being delighted to get their chance at last. 

‘ We 11 have the hill before nightfall, I hope,’ said 
Oliver to Vivian as they shook hands before they 
advanced. 

The Germans had been heavily reinforced, and 
opened an absolutely hellish fire; but Guards and 
Territorials advanced in open order across the dead 
ground, and their losses were not heavy. The front- 
line German trenches were easily captured, and the 
attack swept on towards the crest. But the Guards 
had stubborn fighting, and the Wessex crept closer 
and closer to the front lines, so that they all reached 
the crest together. When their figures were out- 
lined against the sky they were greeted from the 
redoubt with such a murderous fire at short range 
that they were driven back over the crest. 

‘ Now, lads ! ’ cried a splendid-looking officer of 
the Grenadiers, ‘the Guards are not going to be 
defeated. Follow me;’ and he again dashed down 
the slope, the men after him. A bullet crashed into 
his brain. 

‘Avenge his fall,’ cried a young lieutenant who 
took his place ; but a shell blew him to pieces. 

‘ This way. Grenadiers,’ and a sergeant waved his 
rifle; but he fell, as did dozens of others; and 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


239 


presently the Guards were back again. Once more 
they charged. 

Colonel Hastings, rallying his men, shouted, ‘ Now, 
Wessex, show the Guards how Terriers fight!’ and 
with an inspiring cheer the Wessex, shoulder to 
shoulder, dashed down at the redoubt. But it was 
no good ; five times they attempted the task, and 
then, spent and bleeding, had to retire over the crest. 

Orders were given to dig in where they were, and 
spades went to work in the blood-stained earth. 

Meanwhile the Scots Guards had captured Pit 14, 
but had found it untenable; the Grenadiers had 
captured the Keep, where a few survivors still hung 
on to it; the Coldstreamers had the chalk-pit, and 
the Irish Guards the spinney, and they were also 
busy digging in. 

When it was found Pit 14 could not be held, 
two companies of Scots and Grenadier Guards were 
ordered to retire, and in column of route, with correct 
intervals and every rifle at the slope, they marched 
proudly up the hill as if on parade, and, though 
under a perfect inferno of fire, suffered very little 
loss. Well may the British Guards be proud of their 
record I 

By the end of the day Oliver and Vivian were both 
in command of the remains of companies ; and such 
losses had the regiment suffered that both had to 
wield spade and pick to scratch out the two-feet-six 
of earth which has first to be removed in digging in. 

When it was dark, rolls of barbed wire had to be 
carried out and unwound from the reels, and left 
curled about the ground in serpentine loops, so as to 
impede a sudden rush of the enemy. A dismounted 
cavalry brigade came up from Loos, and worked like 


240 


THE GUARDS JOIN IN. 


Trojans to assist their comrades of the infantry. All 
the night through, in drenching weather, and fired 
on incessantly, they toiled, and by daylight had 
formed such a defence that it would cost the Germans 
dear to capture it. Then, the cavalrymen taking over 
the defence of the trench. Guards and Territorials, 
utterly exhausted, after twenty-four hours of in- 
cessant work and fighting, sank on the sodden ground 
to snatch a few hours’ rest. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


HOLDING ON. 



'0 the men who lived through the next two days 


X and nights on the slope of Hill 70, the time 
seemed like some hideous and fantastic nightmare. 
It was one round of constant digging and fighting. 
The enemy kept up a heavy bombardment, which 
ceased only when infantry attacks were launched. 
Then tools had to be dropped, rifles taken in hand, 
and every man had to fight tenaciously for the patch 
of trench he occupied. The attack defeated, the dead 
and wounded were placed in the bottom of the 
trench, to be conveyed to the rear under the cover of 
darkness, and the digging and consolidating went on 
as before. 

On the second night the Second Guards brigade 
took over the trenches, and the war-worn survivors 
of the desperate attack on Loos went back to that 
town for a well-earned rest. During the last two 
days, on the ensanguined slopes of Hill 70, sleep had 
been practically out of the question; and as, in 
the darkness, the men marched away from the 
trenches many stumbled and fell from sheer exhaus- 
tion, and, though under heavy shell-fire, would have 
remained where they fell and dropped straight off 
to sleep had it not been for those of their com- 
rades who had just enough go left to get back 
into Loos. 

Amidst the ruins they curled up anywhere, and in 

O.H. p 


242 


HOLDING ON. 


ten minutes the whole lot were deep in the dreamless 
slumber of the absolutely exhausted. 

The next day Oliver and Vivian, refreshed by 
twelve hours’ sleep, had a look round at the town. 
Since they had entered it with the first rush of the 
British troops successive bombardments had reduced 
it almost to a mass of ruins, above which the twin 
towers of Loos stood up like the iron rigging of a 
shipwrecked vessel. Outside the town were shattered 
and torn wire defences, amongst which the dead were 
still lying thickly scattered. A redoubt, smashed to 
pieces by the British artillery, lay beyond the wire, 
the neighbouring ground being torn and mangled 
into great heaps, among which remains of German 
bodies still lay. Fragments of shells, cases, empty 
machine-gun belts, broken weapons, discarded accou- 
trements, and dead bodies were visible on all hands. 
Away to the front was Hill 70, where fierce fight- 
ing was still going on; to the left Hulluch, the 
Quarries, and the Hohenzollern Redoubt ; to the 
right Souchez. 

Overhead high-explosive shells were wailing and 
screaming, while the never-ending mutter of machine- 
gun and rifle fire was incessant. Aeroplanes, like 
giant vultures, were swooping about, and the struggle 
was still being maintained with great bitterness. 

Fresh troops, clean and smart, came marching 
along to relieve those for whom rest was imperative, 
and these men, undeterred by the ghastly scenes 
around them, cheered their comrades who had been 
fighting for days, and were cheered in return. There 
was everywhere a feeling of optimism. Loos had 
been taken, the Hohenzollern Redoubt stormed ; those 
war-stained heroes had successfully performed their 


HOLDING ON. 243 

part ; the reinforcements would consolidate the 
victory. 

Though away from the trenches, there was plenty 
of work for the Wessex, and work of an arduous 
and dangerous nature, too. The consolidation of a 
position won is often a more difficult task than actual 
capture, and at Loos the enemy fought savagely 
and insistently in his efforts to regain every foot 
of ground he .had lost. The British were just as 
determined to hold the ground they had won; and 
so digging and securing positions, building new gun 
emplacements, the hurrying up of supplies of food 
and ammunition, and the creation of new dressing- 
stations gave ample employment to the reserve 
troops. 

There were various moves being carried out too. 
The French were taking over many of the points 
captured by the British, who were moving to new 
positions, and all the time fierce attacks and counter- 
attacks were waged with varying success. 

The Wessex Fusiliers had barely four hundred 
bayonets left out of nearly eleven hundred, and they 
were brigaded with another weak battalion in order 
to form a regiment. 

‘ Never no business to lose so many men,’ grumbled 
Rock, as the battalion was dismissed after the first 
roll-call since the big attack. ‘They used to shout 
about the yellow-fever when I was sojerin” — he 
spoke of his days in the Regulars as ‘sojerin” as 
opposed to his present service, which he called 
‘navvyin” — ‘but old yaller-jack didn’t account for 
men at the rate the ’Uns do, an’ I reckon a lot o’ 
it ’s bad management.’ 

‘ Things will be better when you get in command. 


244 


HOLDING ON. 


Cheery,’ said Oliver. ‘Meanwhile, don’t let us get 
down-hearted.’ 

‘ It ’u’d take more ’n Germans to make me down- 
’earted,’ replied Rock ; ‘ but that ain’t no reason for 
messin’ things up.’ 

‘No reason at all,’ agreed Oliver; and they went 
off to their quarters. 

A week after they had been relieved from Hill 70 
the Wessex were moved up north of the Hulluch- 
Vermelles road, opposite the HohenzoUern Redoubt, 
for which there had been such desperate fighting. 
This redoubt, like the famous Labyrinth which the 
French had taken, had been looked upon by the Ger- 
mans as impregnable, and its capture by the British 
had caused widespread consternation in the ranks of 
the enemy. The news of its loss was carefully with- 
held from the people in Germany, and the General 
Staff determined to recapture it before the disaster 
had to be acknowledged. Something of this was 
anticipated by the British, who made what prepara- 
tions they could to meet the furious counter-attacks 
which they knew would soon be made. 

Oliver’s and the Guards brigade were moved up 
into the advanced trenches ; and as, in the darkness 
of the night, they made their way along they were 
subjected to a heavy shelling, punctuated by storms 
of bullets from machine-guns. 

‘ The Boche seems particularly desirous of strafing 
us,’ said Vivian, as a number of starlights went up in 
the hope of disclosing the whereabouts of the re- 
lieving men, 

‘Yes; he hasn’t forgiven us for the loss of Loos 
and Souchez,’ replied Oliver. ‘ Germany is feverishly 
anxious not to sustain defeats just now. It not only 


HOLDING ON. 


245 


affects the spirits of her own troops; it must also 
largely influence the opinions of the neutrals.’ 

‘ The war won’t be won or lost through any one’s 
opinions ; the bayonet will be the deciding factor.’ 

‘And that Fritz doesn’t seem over -inclined to 
face.’ 

‘Not when it’s in British hands; but he’s a stub- 
born fighter for all that.’ 

The starlights having died down, the advance was 
renewed, and soon the platoons were filing along the 
communication-trenches. 

The particular part in which Oliver and Vivian 
found themselves was not a very inviting one. It 
was in a trench known as the Big Willie, which ran 
from the Hohenzollern Redoubt to the main German 
trench, the Little Willie trench being away on their 
left. All night long a severe bombardment was 
maintained ; and Verrey lights went up every two 
minutes or so, when the enemy turned on his 
machine-guns. 

Every man in the British trenches was kept under 
arms, and those who were not doing sentry duty 
were busy filling and repairing sand-bags which had 
been severely knocked about by the German shells 
during the day. 

‘ Why can’t they come out in the open like men, and 
put up a decent scrap ? ’ growled Rock, who was back 
again on duty. 

‘ They ’ve tried that, and it didn’t pay,’ replied 
Oliver. 

‘ This ’ere ’orrible muckin’ about in mud an’ filth, 
a-diggin’ an’ shovellin’, is no work for sojers.’ 

‘ Seems as if soldiers had to do it, though ; doesn’t 
it?’ 


246 


HOLDING ON. 


‘ More fools them ! ’ and Rock beat a sand-bag 
savagely down in its place on the parapet, narrowly 
missing a bullet through his head as he did so. 

Colonel Hastings seemed worried about their posi- 
tion. ‘ It ’s a nasty salient just here,’ he said to Oliver 
and Vivian, ‘particularly open to a sudden rush. 
During the day, I am told, the enemy has succeeded 
in recapturing a part of the Hohenzollern Redoubt, 
and we have it on the authority of our airmen 
and spies that the Crown Prince of Bavaria is 
determined “ at any cost ” — and you know what 
the German staff mean by that — to recapture the 
whole redoubt, and force us back to our original 
position.’ 

‘Well, let them try it; we’re ready,’ said Vivian. 

‘We’re always ready to face any odds, I know; 
but it ’s rumoured that several divisions of the Im- 
perial Guard have been hurried up, and that they are 
determined to secure a victory.’ 

‘We’ve met the German Guards before, dad, and 
they didn’t get the best of it. At Ypres a whole 
division attacked our trenches, but they left most of 
their number dead on the ground.’ 

‘ And will again,’ said Vivian. 

‘Well, if the new army can give a good account of 
them it has nothing else to fear,’ said the Colonel. 
‘But there’s another point I want to warn you 
against. The Germans are mining under our trench, 
and I want you to listen for their workers. So long 
as you can hear them you ’re all right. Should they 
cease working the men must retire to the support- 
trench, for the probability is the Germans will explode 
their mine within half-an-hour of leaving off work.’ 

‘That’s serious indeed. The men have a holy 


HOLDING ON. 247 

horror of mines; it’s the one thing that seems to 
unnerve them.’ 

‘Establish listening-posts, and see what you can 
do.’ 

‘In this pandemonium it’s difficult to hear any- 
thing, and no man could live long outside the trenches 
to-night.’ 

‘ Well, boys, do your best, and God grant you come 
through all right. I must get along.’ 

Oliver and Vivian, working under a severe fire, 
managed to dig out a sap ; and then, by lying on 
the ground, the noise of the German miners could be 
distinctly heard. Men listened for half-an-hour at a 
time, and during the whole night work went on. 

It was a relief when, after the usual ‘stand to,’ 
dawn was seen to be breaking. It was probably the 
last day a good many of them would see ; but they 
welcomed the light ; for, if they had to die, they felt 
they would sooner die in daylight. Soon, concealing 
the smoke of their fires as well as they could, the 
Tommies were frizzling rashers and boiling tea. 
The greatest care had to be taken, for whenever 
the smoke was seen curling upwards the Boche knew 
that several men would be gathered round the cheery 
blaze, and a whiz-bang, trench bomb, or half-a-dozen 
grenades were certain to be sent over as a morning 
greeting. 

Breakfast disposed of, the work of tidying up was 
commenced, and soon everything was shipshape. All 
the while a heavy bombardment was kept up, and 
during the morning a draft of one hundred and fifty 
of the Wessex, just out from England, was marched 
in to the front from the reserve-trenches. 

‘ We must be pretty hard up for men for them to 


248 


HOLDING ON. 


do this,’ whispered Oliver to Vivian. ‘ It ’s a severe 
test for untried men.’ 

‘Let’s go along and see how they take it,’ said 
Vivian ; and they crept away. 

It was soon quite evident that they had no reason to 
feel anxious. The new arrivals, mostly quite young- 
sters, were sitting on the fire-step or standing pressed 
against the sides of the trench. Some were talking 
cheerily, some making weird noises on the inevitable 
mouth-organ. One or two were reading ; others were 
hastily scribbling a post-card to some loved one at 
home; while two men were actually playing cards. 
Nowhere was there any sign of funk, although the 
ordeal was one to try the nerves of an old campaigner. 

‘ They ’re simply marvellous ! ’ whispered Vivian to 
Oliver ; ‘ they must have nerves of steel.’ 

‘ They ’re a plucky lot, anyway. Still, it ’s no good 
running unnecessary risks, so all those not wanted 
had better pack into the dugouts.’ 

This was done, but not without some smiling 
remonstrances on the part of the men, who declared 
they were all right, and only waiting for the word 
to climb over the parapet. 

‘ There will be no climbing over to-day, lads,’ said 
Vivian to several of them. ‘ It s the turn of the 
Boche to pay us a visit, I think.’ 

‘And he ’ll get such a warm reception that he’ll 
very likely stay, as a token of his love for us, and 
his attachment to the soil,’ cried a youngster who 
posed as a wag. 

As the morning wore on the shelling increased in 
violence, high-explosive and shrapnel shells literally 
raining on the front-line trenches. 

Presently a German Taube, like a bird of ill-omen. 


HOLDING ON. 


249 


came swooping over the British lines, registering the 
German fire; and, the range being corrected, shells 
were placed with the most deadly accuracy, blowing 
sand-bags, parapets, dugouts, and, alas ! men, literally 
to pieces. 

A few puffs of white smoke round the Taube 
showed the artillery were firing at it, but it ignored 
them until a British machine was seen making straight 
for it. For a moment it circled and blazed away 
with its gun at the British aviator, who made a nose- 
dive and got to close quarters. There was an ex- 
change of shots, and the Taube was seen to drop 
suddenly, then right itself and make for the German 
lines, pursued by the British machine, which presently 
was seen returning. 

The bombardment continued to increase until about 
three o’clock, when to the artillery fire was added 
rifie and machine-gun fire from all points of the 
crescent-shaped German position. 

‘This is decidedly unpleasant,’ said Vivian to the 
Adjutant, who came along by his dugout. 

‘Very hot, and only the prelude to a determined 
attack. Our airmen report that ten battalions are 
mustered near Hill 70, fully a dozen more opposite 
the chalk-pit, and from six to eight opposite us, 
waiting for the guns to cease, when they will try 
to rush our positions. That’s what I’ve come to 
warn you about.’ 

‘ My platoon is ready, and every man can be relied 
on. We shall fisfht as long as a man can stand.’ 

‘ So will every one ; but it ’s as well to know what 
is before you. When the bombardment stops get 
your men on the alert.’ 

They had hardly finished speaking when, as if by 


250 


HOLDING ON. 


magic, the thunder of the big guns ceased, and a 
minute or two later so did the rattle of small arms. 
Then the men tumbled out of their dugouts, reserv^e 
ammunition boxes were opened, while every man sat 
in his place on the fire-step ready to spring up on 
getting the word. 

A trying five minutes passed. The silence was 
eerie, and those who had for hours stood the nerve- 
racking noise unmoved grew nervous and fidgety. 
Presently a whisper ran down the trench, ‘ They re 
coming ; ’ and the command followed, ‘ Man the 
parapets.’ 

Hundreds of pairs of eyes eagerly peered over the 
‘ no man’s land ’ that the new arrivals had never yet 
seen ; and there, scrambling out of their trenches and 
advancing shoulder to shoulder, line succeeding line, 
came waves of Germans — picked troops all. Behind 
the trenches more columns were seen issuing from the 
woods; and behind them again, from the buildings 
and villages, streams of men were advancing to 
support the attack, which the veriest tyro knew was 
going to be a severe one. 

The veterans on the British side smiled grimly 
under their moustaches. They had seen the same 
tactics before at Mons and Ypres, and they waited 
confidently, with finger on trigger, until the word 
should be given to fire. 

It was exactly four o’clock when the Germans left 
their trenches, and at one minute past British and 
French guns opened on the supporting troops. Then 
the machine-guns were turned on to the advancing 
masses, and the word was passed for rapid fire. A 
hurricane of lead swept from the British trenches, 
and the advancing Germans reeled as though from 


HOLDING ON. 


251 


the effects of an earthquake. Gaps appeared, and 
the men seemed to be split into groups, which kept 
ambling on till presently they in turn fell. Succeed- 
ing waves pressed on, not hurriedly, but doggedly, 
almost hopelessly ; but in turn many of them threw 
up their arms and fell face downwards, or spun 
round and fell, until they too were on the ground. 
Others behind came on, and those nearest to the 
British trenches, who had only been wounded, crawled 
forward on hands and knees, those who were able 
halting every now and then to fire; while many a 
man, with a last despairing effort, shook his fist at 
the hated English, and then dropped dead. No 
cowards these; die they might, but until they did 
they would fight. 

And so it went on for an hour, the enemy getting 
gradually nearer the trenches, but only at a fearful 
sacrifice. 

After all attacks on Oliver’s trench had failed, the 
Germans ceased hurling men against it, and reopened 
the bombardment, sending every kind of shell — high- 
explosive, shrapnel, trench bomb, and grenade — into 
it. The men crouched down and took what shelter 
they could ; but they had a fair number of casualties, 
and there was considerable diflSculty in getting the 
wounded away. After an hour of that, another heavy 
attack with more men than ever was launched ; and 
though the defenders fired their rifles until they 
were so hot that they could not hold them, reduced 
in numbers as they were, they could not stem the 
rush. 

The Germans belonged to a Garde Jager corps, 
and came on gallantly enough. Soon they reached 
the parapet, and, hurling bombs into the trench, a 


252 


HOLDING ON. 


dozen leapt down, only to be promptly bayoneted. 
An officer took a flying leap and landed close. to 
Oliver, at whom he thrust with his sword; but a 
shot from Oliver’s revolver laid him low. Another 
German thrust at him with his bayonet, and trans- 
fixed the sleeve of his tunic, to fall himself next 
moment with his head crushed by the rifle-butt of 
a Wessex man. Another shot from Oliver accounted 
for a third German, and the danger was over for the 
moment. But hundreds more were surging up, and 
it was clear that the trench could be no longer held. 
To remain meant death or capture, and the word to 
retire was given. Sullenly the men filed off down 
a communication-trench, taking their wounded with 
them. Oliver and Rock were amongst the last to 
leave, firing at the Germans swarming over the 
parapet as they did so. 

The remains of a machine-gun section, with their 
gun, were with them, and half-way down the com- 
munication-trench the gun was posted. The enemy, 
seeing the gun, made a rush to capture it, crowding 
into the communication - trench. They were too 
jammed up to fire, and after the first two had thrown 
bombs, with a yell they surged forward. Oliver let 
them get within five yards, and then he turned the 
machine-gun on them. It swept the narrow passage 
with a hail of death, and in one minute not a German 
there was alive. Others, in no wise deterred, came 
climbing over their dead and wounded comrades, 
only to meet the same fate, until the communication- 
trench was simply impassable. 

‘ Better ’n sand-bags,’ said Rock grimly ; but, a 
bomb exploding on the side of the trench, he was 
hurled aside with the rush of air. ^ 


HOLDING ON. 


253 


Oliver glanced up from the trench. The Germans, 
seeing they could not get at the gun along the 
comm unication- trench, had swarmed out of the front- 
line trench, and were running across the open to take 
the defenders in flank. 

‘ Run, men, for your lives, and take the gun with 
you ! ’ cried Oliver ; but they would not have had 
time to do so had not those in the support-trench 
seen the move, and mowed down the too daring 
Germans with rifle-fire. 

Oliver saw the danger of his position, and retired 
close to the support-trench, and there they remained, 
defending the way against all enemy attacks until 
darkness fell. 

Vivian succeeded in finding Oliver when it was 
dark. ‘It’s a bad job our losing that trench,’ he 
said. ‘ I hear that at only one other point has our 
line been pierced.’ 

Oliver noticed that his friend had a bandage round 
his head. ‘ Hallo, old chap ! are you much hurt ? ’ he 
asked anxiously. 

‘ A mere scratch ! A bullet shaved my head and 
knocked me dizzy for some moments ; but a drink of 
water and a bandage put me all right.’ 

‘ Thank God for that ! As to losing the trench, I ’d 
have stuck it and fought it out had we not been 
ordered to retire.’ 

‘Wouldn’t have mended matters a bit, old man, 
to have stayed. Every one would have been killed, 
and the Boches would have had the trench all the 
same.’ 

‘ The tinkers ! I expect they would ; they fought 
like devils.’ 

‘You did splendid work with that machine-gun. 


254 


HOLDING ON. 


The fellows say you ought to get a “mention” for 
that.’ 

*Bah, Vivian! what do you and I care for 
“ mentions ” ? Any one who came through Mons and 
Le Cateau can dispense with all that. Show me a 
way to retake that trench ; that ’s all I want.’ 

‘ I ’m coming to that. The Coldstreamers on our 
right also lost part of their trench, and a young 
sergeant who spoke to me while I was getting my 
head bandaged swore that he and his comrades would 
get back the trench to-night, or die in the attempt.’ 

‘ By Jove 1 he ’s the man I want to see.’ 

‘Well, he’s just along here;’ and in a moment 
Oliver and Vivian were talking with a fair-haired 
young sergeant of the Guards. The three arranged 
the details of a plan to be put into execution at 
midnight, and volunteers were called for. Sixty men, 
Guardsmen and Wessex, were chosen, and, permission 
having been given for the attempt, preparations were 
made to carry it out. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE COUNTER-ATTACK. 



HE sixty men were divided into three parties. 


X The young sergeant, whose name was Banks, 
since the original idea had been his, was given com- 
mand of the first twenty. These were armed with 
four Mill’s bombs each. Oliver had twenty men 
behind, armed with rifies and bayonets, and each 
carrying two bombs; and Vivian, with his twenty 
men and a machine-gun, was to move along the 
communication-trench as far as he could, and then 
they were to open fire with rifles, taking cover behind 
the dead bodies of the Germans. The communication- 
trench, being the most likely point of attack, was sure 
to be watched, and in expectation of a determined 
attempt, the Germans would mass near the entrance 
to the trench. 

Banks and his men, creeping forward silently, got 
as near the captured trench as they could, and then 
waited until the fire of Vivian’s men showed that 
they had got into action. Waiting for a couple of 
minutes to allow the Germans to gather at the end 
of the communication -trench, Banks led his men 
forward with a rush. Without losing a man, having 
taken the enemy entirely by surprise, they reached 
the trench, and, running along the parados, hurled 
their bombs. Wild yells and shrieks burst from the 
trench, and the enemy, as always when taken by 
surprise, were utterly confused. Before they had 


256 


THE COUNTER-ATTACK. 


grasped the situation, the bombers were in the trench ; 
and, half turning to the right and half to the left, 
they pressed forward, driving the Germans before 
them. Oliver was in the trench with his men almost 
as soon as the bombers ; and, a bomber and a rifleman 
working side by side, a savage struggle began. Bombs, 
bayonets, and rifle-butts were used with deadly effect, 
and terrible scenes were enacted in the darkness. 
Quarter was neither asked for nor given. 

Oliver having worked along as far as the communi- 
cation-trench, he and half-a-dozen men seized the bodies 
of the dead Germans and hurled them out. Vivian 
and his men worked from the other end, and soon 
they had joined hands. The machine-gun was brought 
along and mounted on the front parapet, sweeping 
the ‘ no man’s land ’ and preventing the Germans 
from sending up reinforcements. Verrey lights were 
also sent up, and this was the signal for reinforce- 
ments to be poured along the communication-trench. 
These joined in the work going forward, and in 
fifteen minutes there was not a German alive in the 
trench. Another machine-gun was hurried up, and 
then all waited for the counter-attack which was 
sure to follow. 

Within half-an-hour this was attempted, a mass 
of men charging up to the trench ; but machine-gun 
and rapid fire accounted for every one; and within 
an hour of the first shot being fired by Vivian’s 
men the trench was securely in the hands of the 
British. 

*This is glorious, Vivian!’ said Oliver. ‘It will 
discourage the Boche more than all his previous 
losses. To lose what he has once gained riles him 
immensely.’ 



‘ As your commanding officer, I command you, go to your 
men, sir ! ’ 

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THE COUNTER-ATTACK. 257 

‘And we’ll hang on this time/ replied Vivian. 
‘Wild horses won’t turn me out of this again.’ 

Their losses had been remarkably small — three 
were killed and a few more wounded. Every one 
was in the highest of spirits, and Guardsmen and 
Wessex complimented each other on their achieve- 
ment. They were determined to hold the recaptured 
trench while one of them remained alive. But, con- 
trary to all expectations, no further attack was made 
upon them that night. 

Morning showed thousands of German dead in 
front of the British trenches. The whole attack had 
failed, being in most places repulsed from the first, 
while those portions of the Big Willie trench which 
had been lost through sheer weight of numbers had 
been gallantly recaptured. 

This repulse of the Germans seemed to make them 
only the more determined to oust the British from the 
trenches they had taken; and for some time aerial 
fights and minor engagements, in which the Wessex 
had their share, were frequent. 

‘I suppose we shall have to give Brother Fritz 
another shaking up in this quarter before he’ll be 
quiet/ said Oliver to Vivian a few days after the 
recapture of the trench. 

‘ I suppose we shall ; he doesn’t seem satisfied.’ 

Vivian’s prophecy proved right, for one raw 
and chilly morning, when the wind was blowing 
steadily from the west, and a thick Scotch mist 
covered the ground, it leaked out that an attack on 
the Hohenzollern Redoubt, of which the Germans 
still held a portion, would be made that day. 

It was no casual attack ; every detail had been 
thoroughly thought out and carefully arranged. 

O.H. Q 


m 


THE COUNTER-ATTACK. 


Stores of shells had been replenished, fresh troops 
brought up, new gas-masks provided, long, curious- 
looking iron cylinders conveyed to the front-line 
trenches, and plentiful reserves of ammunition 
accumulated. 

Punctually at noon a terrific bombardment, as 
heavy as that which opened the battle of Loos, broke 
out from the British lines. Buildings crumbled away, 
trenches and dugouts were battered to pieces, wire 
entanglements were blown to invisible scraps, and 
the surrounding country deluged with shells. 

An hour passed, and then the mysterious cylinders 
were lifted up over the parapets, their nozzles un- 
screwed, and a dense cloud of white smoke, fringed 
below with green and red, fioated away towards the 
Hohenzollern Redoubt. 

‘ I wonder how the Boche likes being repaid in his 
own coin,’ said Vivian, as he watched the smoke 
creeping onwards. 

‘About as little as we do,’ replied Oliver; ‘but 
he ’ll put up a stiff* fight for all that, I expect.’ 

The smoke wall, half a mile broad, fioated on, and 
settled round the redoubt, the slag-heap behind it, 
and the buildings of Pit 8. 

‘ Now, men,’ cried Vivian, ‘ off* with your greatcoats, 
and get your gas-masks properly fixed.’ 

A small ration of rum had been served out, and 
each man had a couple of Mill’s bombs in addition 
to rifie and bayonet. All were keenly eager to 
advance, and officers experienced difficulty in holding 
the men back until the moment to get over the 
parapets arrived. The redoubt, bean-shaped, was 
right in front of them. From the German main 
trench ran two trenches nicknamed by the British 


THE COUNTER-ATTACK. 


259 


Big and Little Willie, and between these two other 
trenches led back to the German entrenchments, 
behind which were the slag-heaps known as the 
Dump. Through this Dump the enemy had run 
timbered galleries, and from loopholes in these 
numerous machine-guns pointed in all directions. In 
the dugouts were crowds of bombers, and the British 
officers, at least, knew that the task set them was one 
which would require every ounce of energy and the 
most splendid pluck to accomplish. 

Exactly at two o’clock the British bombardment 
ceased, and, with a rush, over the parapet went the 
Wessex, Leicesters and Lincolns on the right and left 
of them. As hard as they could pelt they ran for- 
ward, high-explosive and shrapnel raining on them. 
Then through the smoke came showers of machine- 
gun bullets, and the casualties were heavy. Nothing 
daunted, on rushed the Territorials, and reached the 
remains of the barbed wire, which was almost entirely 
demolished. Another moment, and the first enemy 
trench was reached. Planks were thrown across, 
over which the men ran on to the second trench, 
where a short, sharp fight took place. 

German equipment, bags of bombs, and dead bodies 
lay about everywhere, and the British, successful but 
breathless, tore off their gas-helmets. Word was 
passed for the men to hold the trench until reinforce- 
ments came up, and a brief breathing-space was 
afforded. 

Suddenly Rock seized Oliver’s arm. ‘Are these 
our chaps ? ’ he asked, and pointed to a number of 
men in gas-helmets advancing rapidly along a trench 
at right angles to the one they were holding. Only 
their bluish-gray gas -helmets were visible, and it 


260 


THE COUNTER-ATTACK. 


was impossible to say whether they were German 
or British. 

‘Get ready for rapid fire!’ cried Oliver to his 
men ; ‘ but don’t fire till I raise my arm.’ 

Round the comer came a man in blue-gray 
uniform. 

‘Boches!’ cried Oliver, and up went his arm. 
Crashing volleys rang out from the British, then a 
rush forward, and bomb and bayonet settled the 
business. 

Again an advance was made, and the men, now all 
mixed up, dashed, in the teeth of a terrific fire, right 
at the redoubt. The fighting was of the most des- 
perate character; but the British swept right over 
the redoubt, and presently Oliver found himself 
with a small party in the Little Willie trench. But 
beyond this they could not get, and a fierce fight 
with bombs was maintained. 

For two hours they held the position; then re- 
inforcements, led by Colonel Hastings, came along 
the trench. ‘ We are ordered to hold on here at any 
cost,’ he said, 'and to do so we must carry the 
Dump. The enemy can get an enfilade fire on us, 
and will blow us to bits as soon as he can fire 
without hitting his own men.’ 

‘We shall have to charge across the open to get 
at him,’ said Oliver dubiously. 

‘I know, but we must attempt it. Where is 
Vivian ? ’ 

‘I haven’t seen him since the first advance; he 
may be hit.’ 

‘ Well, warn the men, and when I give three blasts 
on my whistle, follow me.’ 


CHAPTER XXX 1. 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 

I N ten minutes all was ready. The Colonel blew 
his whistle, and, scrambling from the trench, 
dashed straight for the Dump. Oliver was beside 
him, and the men, in open order, close behind. 

They hadn’t gone twenty yards when, with a 
sharp cry. Colonel Hastings fell, shot through the 
body. 

Oliver threw himself beside him. ‘ Father, father ! ’ 
he cried ; but he got no answer. In a fever of grief 
he tore his flask round, unscrewed it, and poured 
some rum-and- water into his father’s mouth. In a 
second or two Colonel Hastings, his face deadly pale, 
recovered, and, struggling on to one elbow, looked 
round him. The men were still running on towards 
the Dump under a hellish fire. 

‘ Father ! * again cried Oliver, in an agony of fear, 
‘ where are you hit ? ’ 

‘ Is that you, Oliver ? ’ gasped the Colonel. ‘ Leave 
me. Go on ; your place is with your men.’ 

‘ I cannot leave you, father.’ 

‘ Go. I can do no more. Leave me.’ 

‘ I cannot, father.’ 

The Colonel made an effort, though it cost him 
excruciating pain. He struggled up on one elbow, 
and, pointing towards the charging men with his 
other hand, said, *As your commanding officer, I 
command you, go to your men, sir.’ 


262 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 


‘Father, father!’ cried Oliver. ‘My God I I can- 
not leave you.’ 

‘ Then I will lead them,’ and the Colonel actually 
endeavoured to rise; but the effort was too much 
for him, and he rolled back fainting. 

Again Oliver poured spirit into his mouth, and 
then, seeing the blood welling from his father’s chest, 
he tore open the tunic, and hastily tied his field 
dressing round the wound. 

The Colonel opened his eyes. ‘ Go, Oliver, my 
boy,’ he said. ‘ Don’t let me die with the thought 
that a Hastings ever held back in face of the enemy.’ 

‘ How can I leave you to die thus, father ? ’ 

‘ Go ; your life is your country’s ! It is my last 
command — go!’ And the gallant soldier fell back 
unconscious. 

With a heart-broken groan, Oliver got on to his 
feet, the bitterness of death in his heart. He rushed 
on after his men, bullets whistling round him. He 
had a dim idea afterwards of reaching the Dump, 
of using a rifle and bayonet with good effect, and 
then of finding himself with Captain Lloyd, the 
Dump captured. 

A counter-attack was driven off, and then Oliver, 
his reasoning powers restored, told Captain Lloyd of 
the fall of the Colonel. 

‘ May I go back and see if he still lives ? ’ he 
pleaded. 

‘ The Colonel down ! That ’s bad news,’ said Captain 
Lloyd. 

Rock, who had found Oliver, overheard the remark. 
‘What! the Colonel ’it?’ he repeated. ‘We’ll give 
them ’Uns ’ell for that. Is ’e dead ? ’ 

‘ I don’t know.’ ^ 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 


263 


‘We’ll soon find out. — Captain/ to Lloyd, ‘let us 
go an’ see. We’ll never be able to ’old this ’ere 
’ole, an’ if night falls, an’ we are wiped out or ’ave 
to ’ook it, the Colonel’ll fall into the ’ands o’ the 
’Uns, an’ then — well, he ’d better die now.’ 

‘ I can’t spare you ; but go/ said Captain Lloyd. 

Without a moment’s hesitation Oliver and Rock 
ran back over the shell-swept area, having the most 
marvellous escapes. At first they could not discover 
the spot where the Colonel had fallen ; but presently 
they found him. He was deadly pale and still un- 
conscious, and Oliver could not tell whether he was 
alive or dead. 

‘We’ll get his body in, any’ow,’ muttered Rock, 
and he and Oliver gently lifted up the Colonel. 
Shells burst all round them, and bullets fairly 
hummed in the air. The Colonel was a heavy man, 
and every now and then they had to rest, lying flat 
on the ground beside their burden to escape the 
bullets. At last they reached the Big Willie trench, 
and there they found Skinner nursing his left arm, 
which had been shot through. 

‘ Hallo, Hastings ! glad to see you safe. I ’ve got 
a “ blighty,” I think.’ Receiving no answer, he went 
on, ‘ Whom have you got there ? ’ 

‘ My father,’ replied Oliver in low tones. 

‘ By Jove, Hastings ! I am sorry ; ’ and, ignoring his 
own wound, Skinner immediately came up and gave 
a helping hand. Soon they arrived at an advance 
first field-dressing station, and at Oliver’s earnest 
request the doctor came and looked at the Colonel. 

‘ H’m ! ’ said the doctor, turning down the Colonel’s 
eyelid, ‘he’s alive; but he’s got a nasty one 
there.’ 


264 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 


‘ Do you think it is a mortal wound, doctor ? ’ 

‘ Can’t say, youngster. Is he your colonel ? ’ 

‘ And my father.’ 

‘ Poor lad ! ’ and the doctor patted Oliver on the 
shoulder. ‘ I ’ll do wlrat I can for him ; but my 
hands are terribly full just now.’ 

In a minute a KA.M.C. man was pouring some 
liquid into the Colonel’s mouth, and the doctor was 
examining the wound. While he was dressing it 
Skinner said, ‘Hastings, when my scratch is bound 
up’ — the scratch was a broken bone and a badly 
lacerated flesh-wound, from which he had lost a 
large quantity of blood — ‘ I promise you I will 
remain by the Colonel and do all I can for him.* 

‘A thousand thanks, Skinner!’ said Oliver. ‘If 
ever I can do as much for you, I will.’ 

Some bearers having arrived, the Colonel, still 
unconscious, was put on a stretcher, and the doctor, 
turning to Oliver, said, ‘ I have done all I can at the 
moment. There may be a chance for your father, 
but I can’t say yet. — Now, youngster,’ to Skinner, 
‘ what ’s your trouble ? ’ 

While Skinner was having his arm dressed Oliver 
bade him good-bye, and he and Rock started back 
for the Dump, taking with them several men who, 
having had slight hurts dressed, insisted upon going 
back into the fight. 

The return journey was safely made, and the 
Dump reached. Desperate fighting was going on 
there, which lasted until night fell. 

Weary with the exertions and excitement of the 
day, and depressed over the loss of his fatjier, Oliver 
was eating some biscuits and jam, when he heard two 
men telling one another in a low whisper that the 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 


265 


Colonel had been killed. Instantly Oliver questioned 
them as to how they had obtained the news. ‘ Some 
men, under cover of the darkness,’ they said, ‘had 
come up, and had heard the news from a wounded 
man on his way to the base hospital.’ 

‘The Colonel had been brought in wounded, and 
had died on his way to the base hospital;’ that 
was the report. No further information could be 
obtained; but it agreed with what Oliver knew of 
the actual facts, and he did not doubt its accuracy. 

‘ A good soldier ! a fine soldier ! ’ muttered Rock ; 
‘ one o’ the old school ! They don’t make ’em like 
that now.’ 

Oliver sat brooding till he felt a sympathetic touch 
on his shoulder, and then his hand was clasped in a 
firm, warm grasp. He looked up to see Vivian before 
him. 

‘ My dear old chap,’ said Vivian, ‘ this is a heavy 
blow. You ’ve heard the news, of course ? ’ 

‘ Vivian, is it you ? I wondered if you had gone 
under too.’ 

‘No; I got separated from our men in the rush. 
Tell me how the Colonel fell.’ 

Oliver related the story. 

‘ ’Twill be a sad blow for Mrs Hastings and — your 
sister.’ 

‘ Why wasn’t it I ? I could have been spared ; but 
the poor old dad!’ and Oliver hid his face in his 
hands. 

‘ Cheer up, Oliver ; it ’s a glorious death. It ’s the 
one he would have chosen. God knows, I loved him, 
and feel his loss as deeply as though he were my 
own father; but unless we win this war I would 
rather be with him than live.’ 


266 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 


* And I ! ’ replied Oliver. ‘ It ’s unmanly to sit and 
whine. I will avenge him ; ’ and he started up. 

The Germans had been quiet for some time, but 
now they opened a hot bombardment on the Dump. 
The men took what cover they could until the 
infantry attack came, and then, weary though they 
were, repulsed attack after attack. 

Oliver had seven men to defend a saphead, and 
they hurled bombs till their arms ached. One by 
one the defenders fell, until only Rock and Oliver 
were left on their feet, and they two kept the enemy 
at bay for four hours. 

‘It seems as if we cannot get hit,’ said Oliver 
wearily when, the dawn breaking, they surveyed the 
corpses, both British and German, around them. 

‘Some must come through,’ replied Rock, ‘if it’s 
only to take back the news of our failure.’ 

‘We’ve held what we’ve taken, anyhow,’ said 
Oliver grimly. 

‘ But we want three times the number o’ men to 
push on an’ finish what we’ve begun. Till then 
we’ll never whack the ’Uns. A man can’t fight for 
a week on end.’ 

There was a certain amount of truth in old Rock’s 
statement, and Oliver felt that if reinforcements did 
not soon arrive they would have to fall back from 
sheer exhaustion. ^ 

Some fresh troops did arrive, and the Sherwood 
Foresters made a gallant attempt to gain entirely the 
Big Willie trench from the redoubt; but so strong 
were the Germans that the attack could not be 
brought to a successful issue. 

Still the British held on to the Hohenzollern 
Redoubt. They had captured it, and had they been 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 


267 


ordered to retreat it is doubtful if they would have 
obeyed, so determined were they. Captain Lloyd, 
who was in command of the remnant of the Wessex, 
complimented Oliver and Rock on the way they had 
held the saphead all through the night, and said that 
if he lived he would certainly report the matter to 
the General. 

During the morning the stock of bombs was 
exhausted, and Oliver volunteered to fetch up a 
fresh supply; four other men, amongst them Rock, 
also volunteered. It was a forlorn hope, for they 
had to cross the open, swept by machine-gun fire. 
Nevertheless they dashed out, though two men were 
almost immediately shot down. The rest reached 
a reserve -trench, and succeeded in bringing up 
two boxes. More volunteers were called for, and 
altogether Oliver and Rock made three journeys, 
bringing up a sufficient supply to last some hours. 
How they escaped death was a mystery. Oliver 
seemed to court it; but though men fell all round 
him he escaped, and Rock's absolute indifference to 
danger was almost uncanny. 

The bombs were badly needed, for the enemy had 
got to close quarters again. They were beaten off, 
and then they began to pump high-explosive shells 
over. One hit a dugout, and half-buried Vivian and 
seven men. 

‘ Come, boys,’ shouted Oliver ; ' we may save them. 
Get your shovels to work ! ’ and in full view of the 
enemy, who kept up a hot fire, Oliver and the men 
worked, succeeding in extricating all the men, of 
whom five were only badly bruised, among these 
being Vivian, and two rather severely crushed. And 
so the day passed ; and that night the survivors were 


268 


THE END OF THE FIGHT. 


relieved by the Guards Brigade, and marched back 
to the support-trenches, where, absolutely exhausted, 
they crawled under shelter and fell into a dead 
sleep.* 


* Note D — Operations round Loos. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 

‘ A PRETTY fine mess the Tins ’ave made o’ us,’ 
jL^ growled Private Richard Rock, as he looked 
round at the remnant of the Wessex Fusiliers when, 
next morning, they stood on parade in a little village 
three miles behind the firing-line. And indeed he 
spoke the bare truth, for there remained but four 
officers and one hundred and seventeen men on their 
feet, and many of these were slightly wounded. 
Captain Lloyd, the Adjutant, was in command, and 
the roll of some companies had to be called by lance- 
corporals, for all the senior non-commissioned officers 
were gone. 

The roll called, a most eulogistic letter from the 
General commanding the division was read; where- 
upon Rock remarked, ‘ Fair words butter no parsnips.’ 

Then came the usual inspection of feet, after which 
the regiment was ordered to clean up kit, as they 
were destined for transfer to a base for rest and 
reorganisation. 

Amongst the killed was Corporal Arnold, who had 
been of such help in tracking down the Belgian 
spies; while Reedsdale was wearing a sergeant’s 
stripes. 

Oliver and Vivian had taken up their quarters in 
a small inn, and Rock, as usual, had succeeded in 
making them fairly comfortable. 

Both Oliver and Vivian were very much depressed ; 


270 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


the ColoneFs fate was never absent from their minds. 
Oliver had, of course, made every inquiry ; but with 
so many wounded the doctors had their hands terribly 
full, and it was not possible to get confirmation of 
the Colonel’s reported death. 

^ If we only knew for certain,’ said Oliver, ‘ it would 
not be so bad. This fearful anxiety is worse than 
bad news.’ 

‘ Skinner will let us know as soon as he possibly 
can, depend upon it,’ said Vivian. 

As if in answer to his words the chuff-chuff of a 
motor-cycle sounded. It stopped outside the house, 
and some one called out to a man of the Wessex, 

‘ Say, chummy, can you tell me where Mr Hastings 
of yours is to be found ? ’ 

In an instant Oliver’s head was out of the window. 

‘ Who wants me ? ’ he asked. 

‘Note from the base hospital, sir,’ answered the 
despatch-rider, a mere ruddy faced British youth, not 
a day more than eighteen. 

In less time than it takes to relate, Oliver had 
the note in his hand. ‘Wait a minute,’ he cried to 
the despatch-rider. Then he read out loud : 

‘“Dear Hastings, — I am happy to tell you the 
Colonel is better than could have been expected. 
The doctor says his wound is very serious, but there 
is certainly a chance for him. If splendid attendance 
and good nursing can save him, he will pull through. 
He is conscious, and sends his love to you. He is to 
be kept absolutely quiet, so you would not be able 
to see him ; but rely, my dear Hastings, on my doing 
everything that lies in my power for him. I am 
writing this while a most charming nurse holds the 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


271 


blotting-pad for me. (I hope she isn’t looking at 
what I write.) I am afraid my wound won’t be a 
‘ blighty ’ after all, so expect to see me again soon. — 
Yours sincerely, Norman Skinner.” ’ 

‘Thank God for that!’ cried Oliver. ‘I feel a 
different man.’ 

‘And I too,’ said Vivian. ‘The Colonel, I should 
think, has a splendid constitution. He’s tough as 
steel ; if he lasts a day or two he ’ll pull through.’ 

Oliver sent a few lines to Skinner in reply, which 
the despatch-rider, a ten-franc note richer, took back 
with him. Then he wrote a long letter to his mother ; 
while Vivian said he would take the opportunity of 
sending a note to Miss Hastings. Although it was 
apparently only a short note, it took Vivian a very 
long time ; and Oliver’s letter was ready a good while 
before his friend had finished. 

There was a lot to be done before they started, and 
they were going out, when Rock’s voice was heard 
below. ‘ I tell you there ain’t no Lord Rossville in 
the reg’ment. Think I don’t know ? I ’ve bin with 
’em ever since the battalion ’s bin formed, an’ know 
every orficer, though. Lord knows, some wasn’t worth 
knowin’.’ 

‘But, my good man. Lord Rossville wasn’t an 
officer ; he was a private.’ 

‘Oh, in-deed!’ replied Rock in a most supercilious 
way. ‘You didn’t say that. O’ course we’ve got 
plenty o’ lords in the ranks.’ 

‘ Have you ? ’ replied the voice. 

‘ Sure enough ; we had three in my platoon.’ 

‘ Indeed ! Then perhaps you can help me to find the 
gentleman I ’m looking for ? ’ 


272 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


‘ Cert’inly ! Now, look over there ! See ’im as is 
scrapin’ the mud off is ’air ? ’ 

‘ That young man with the two others ? ’ 

‘ That ’s ’im ; that ’s young Lord — what ’s ’is name ? * 

‘ Rossville.’ 

‘Yes, just so; the little red-’eaded, pimply, bandy- 
legged scarecrow ’s ’im ; the thin un with ’im is the 
Prince o’ Wales, and the other the Book o’ West- 
minster.’ 

‘ Dear me ! this is extraordinary.’ 

‘Yes, ain’t it? Good-bye, Mr Six-an’-eight, an’ 
mind the mud.’ 

‘ What on earth is that old scoundrel up to now ? ’ 
said Oliver, who had overheard the whole conversation. 

‘ Some foolery, I expect,’ replied Vivian ; and, 
looking from the window, they saw an immaculately 
dressed, middle-aged man, wearing glasses, stepping 
across to three privates of the Wessex who were 
‘cleaning up.’ They saw him stop and talk to the 
soldiers, and then they heard a roar of laughter, and 
the man who had been described by Rock as a ‘ bandy- 
legged scarecrow ’ gave the civilian a friendly smack 
on the back that nearly put him on his nose. 

The stranger came hastily back towards Rock, who 
was complacently smoking a short briar. 

‘ What do you mean by making a fool of me ? ’ he 
asked indignantly. 

‘ Lord love yer ! I never made a fool o’ yer,* 
replied Rock stolidly. ‘I reckon nature did that; 
though I always understood gents in your profession, 
which I take to be the lawyer line, was more rogues 
than fools.’ 

‘ I asked you a plain, simple question, and you told 
me a tissue of lies.’ 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


273 


*Oh, that's it. Well, I thought you was out 
tellin fairy tales; or did you think it was the 1st 
o’ April ? 

It is doubtful how the matter would have ended 
had not Oliver and Vivian come out. 

Cheery Dick stiffened like a ramrod, and, removing 
his pipe from his mouth, stood at attention. 

' What ’s the discussion about. Rock ? ’ asked Oliver. 

‘ Gent ’ere come out from ’ome to provide amuse- 
ments for the troops.* 

‘Nothing of the sort, sir,’ snapped the gentleman 
in the glasses. 

‘D’ye mean to say you ’aven’t bin amusin’ us?’ 
asked Cheery Dick threateningly. 

‘ Certainly not.’ 

‘ Lord, sir ’ — and Rock turned an appealing glance 
at his officers — ‘ I ’ve almost ’ad to smile myself ; an’ 
look at them three fellers over there, fair bu’stin’ 
with laughin’.’ 

The three young soldiers certainly did seem to be 
highly amused ; but Tommy is always ready to laugh 
at a very small joke. 

‘I always had the highest respect for the British 
soldier,’ said the civilian, ‘ and have ever found him 
most civil and obliging. I have never been laughed 
at in this way before.’ 

‘Then don’t you try a-pullin’ o’ the said British 
sojer’s leg.’ 

‘Pulling his leg! Why, I never touched any 
of you.’ 

‘ Oh Lord, sir ! take ’im away — take ’im away ! ’ 
and Rock turned up his eyes in disgust. 

Both Oliver and Vivian had something to do to 
prevent themselves from laughing, and were moving 

o.n. R 


274 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


away, when the civilian said, ‘ If I may judge from 
your badges, gentlemen, you belong to the Wessex 
Fusiliers ? ’ 

‘ We have that honour,’ replied Vivian. 

*Then perhaps you can tell me where I can find 
Lord Rossville ? ’ 

‘ He doesn’t belong to ours, I think.’ 

‘ Oh yes, he does ; I ’ve traced him. But perhaps 
you don’t know he ’s succeeded to his grandfather’s 
title. You know him only as Harry Bulmer.’ 

‘ Bulmer — Bulmer ? There ’s a Bulmer in B com- 
pany, I think. Is he rather slim and dark ? ’ 

‘ I ’ve never had the pleasure of seeing him, but I 
believe he ’s a very handsome young man.’ 

‘I don’t know about that. Last time I saw him 
he was covered with mud and smeared with blood, 
I think.’ 

‘Not wounded, sir, I hope — not wounded;’ and 
the legal man caught hold of Vivian’s arm appre- 
hensively. 

‘I couldn’t say whether it was his own or some- 
body else’s blood. Anyway, he isn’t killed.’ 

‘ Oh, I ’m delighted to hear that ! You know he ’s 
just come into a title and a splendid property — eight 
thousand pounds a year, if it’s a penny. It would 
be terrible if he were to be killed now.’ 

‘I don’t know that it would be any worse than 
if he hadn’t got a penny,’ said Vivian, a little stiffly, 
for anything like money-worship he loathed. 

‘No, no — er — er — of course not; but can you tell 
me where I can find his lordship ? My name ’s 
Scrivens, and I ’m the late lord’s solicitor. I should 
like to tell his present lordship of his succession 
personally. I have come out from England on 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


275 


purpose to do so, and had great difficulty in obtain- 
ing permission to get up to this terrible place, and 
I ’m anxious to get back again.* 

‘ After having arranged to manage the new lord’s 
affairs — eh ? ’ 

‘ Well, of course I should like to do so ; but my 
visit is principally congratulatory — congratulatory;’ 
and Mr Scrivens complacently rubbed his white hands 
together. 

‘ Come with me, and I ’ll try to find the man you 
want.’ 

Mr Scrivens set off with the two officers, and on 
the way told them how the heir to the barony, a 
naval officer, had been killed in the Dardanelles, and 
the old lord had died a week later. 

‘ Rough luck ! ’ said Oliver. 

‘Rough for the dead; good for the living;’ and 
Mr Scrivens smiled amiably. 

They came across Private Bulmer sitting on a box, 
washing out two pocket-handkerchiefs and a pair of 
socks in a bucket of hot water which he had obtained 
from the house outside which he was sitting. 

‘ Some one from England to see you, Bulmer,’ said 
Vivian. 

Bulmer, who had not noticed the arrival of the 
three, jumped up, took his pipe from his mouth with 
his soapy hands, and stood to attention. 

‘ Good-morning, my lord ; good-morning,’ said Mr 
Scrivens. ‘ De-lighted to see you. I have come from 
England specially to congratulate you on your good 
fortune ; ’ and Mr Scrivens seized one soapy hand. 

Bulmer looked at Mr Scrivens, then at his officers ; 
and his look clearly showed what his thoughts 
were. 


276 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


‘No, Mr Scrivens is not suffering from shell-shock 
or want of sleep,’ said Vivian. ‘ He says you really 
have come into a peerage.’ 

‘ Yes, my lord ; you are Lord Rossville.’ 

‘ Lord Rossville ! But the old man and Gus ! 
What ’s happened ? You don’t mean to say poor Gus 

is ’ and Bulmer stopped, as if unwilling to speak 

the word. 

‘ Alas, my lord ! yes,’ said Mr Scrivens, turning up 
his eyes. ‘The Honourable Augustus was killed at 
the Dardanelles, and the late lord died a week ago.’ 

‘ Poor old Gus ! ’ and Bulmer sank on his box quite 
dejected. 

‘ It ’s a fine property, my lord, and a grand old 
country mansion. An old title too, with a handsome 
rent-roll. You will, of course, get leave, and obtain 
a commission — and — er — perhaps a staff job. I have 
all the documents ready for inspection, and ’ 

‘ Oh, shut up, man, and don’t “ my lord ” me ! ’ cried 
Bulmer angrily. ‘ I ’m Private Bulmer here, and 
shall be till the end of the war, or till a Boche 
gets me.’ 

‘ But, my lord, think of the risk, and of the title, 
you know.’ 

‘That’ll go to my young brother, who’d make a 
far better member of the aristocracy than I should.’ 

‘But there’s all sorts of documents to be signed, 
and ’ 

‘ I ’ll give my mother power of attorney.’ 

Mr Scrivens looked flabbergasted. 

Vivian shook hands with the young private. 
‘Allow me to congratulate you, Bulmer,’ he said. 
‘ Eight thousand a year and a peerage don’t come to 
one every day. I ’ll ask the Major to get you leave.’ 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


277 


*My congratulations also/ said Oliver, shaking 
hands. 

‘Thanks from my heart;’ and Bulmer coloured 
with pleasure at the cordial tone of his officers. ‘ But 
it ’s dearly bought at the expense of my cousin’s life ; 
he was a fine fellow.’ 

‘ Your sentiments do you honour,’ said Vivian, and 
he and Oliver went on, nodding to Mr Scrivens* 

Kock, who had taken more interest in the proceed- 
ings than he had cared about showing, had strolled 
up in time to overhear the last part of the conversa- 
tion. When his officers went on he said to Bulmer, 
‘ So you really are a bloomin’ lord, are you ? ’ 

‘ So I hear. Cheery.’ 

‘Well, all I can say is, you don’t look it. You 
look more like some City clerk in convict’s dress.’ 

‘You’re not complimentary,’ said Bulmer with a 
smile. 

‘ No, never was.’ 

‘ Look here ! don’t you be insolent to Lord Ross- 
ville,’ said Mr Scrivens. 

‘ Lord Fiddlesticks ! ’ said Rock. ‘ He ’s just Private 
No. so-and-so, of the Wessex Fusiliers, an’ I care for 
his title about as much as I care for you, an’ that ’s 
this much;’ and Rock snapped his fingers con- 
temptuously under Mr Scrivens’s nose. ‘ An’ you ’d 
better be movin’, as the ’Uns might drop a dozen 
over at any moment.’ 

‘ A dozen what ? ’ 

‘ Shells, you blitherin’ idiot ! — shells ! Blow you to 
bits like this ; ’ and Rock waved his arm and made a 
puffing noise with his mouth. 

‘ Good heavens ! you don’t say so ? ’ 

‘Fact! — An’ look ’ere. Lord Dusthole — or what- 


278 


A GENTLEMAN FROM ENGLAND. 


ever your go-to-party-at-home name may be — if you 
wants to arst a few pals to wet the new title, I *m 
your man. Savvy ? ' 

‘ Right-0, Cheery ! ’ and Rock walked airily away. 

‘ What a terrible fellow ! ’ said Mr Scrivens. 

‘ One of the best,’ corrected Private Lord Rossville. 
‘Reckoned by your standard, a common soldier, I 
suppose ; by mine, a man to respect and admire.’ 

‘ Well, well, you may be right ; but is there 
nowhere where we can have ten minutes’ private 
conversation, my lord ? ’ 

The young man wrung out his handkerchiefs and 
socks. ‘ Come in here,’ he said wearily ; ‘ and hurry 
up. We parade at two o’clock. I’ve got a lot to 
do before then.’ 

As they disappeared inside the house Rock cocked 
his eye back over his shoulder. ‘ They may well call 
us the “ new army,” ’ he muttered. ‘ Sausage-makers 
for orficers ; bloomin’ lords as privates ! ’Ow is any 
one to know who’s who or what’s what? Sooner 
this war’s over an’ we get back to the old style 
again the better, I say ; ’ and he wandered slowly 
to his quarters. 


CHAPTER XXXIIL 


THE REVIEW. 


HAT day found both Oliver and Vivian in 



JL command of companies — promoted captains. 
The mortality was so high amongst the officers that, 
with the exception of Captain Lloyd, made major, 
and given command of the regiment, there were only 
lieutenants left. The regiment was also ordered to 
parade at six next morning, and march about eleven 
miles to the rear, in order to take part in an inspec- 
tion by his Majesty King George, who was paying a 
visit to'his armies in the field. 

* This is something of an honour,’ said Oliver that 
night as he and Vivian were having their supper. 

‘Yes; but we shall make only a sorry show,’ 
said Vivian, whose mind went back to the brilliant 
spectacles in which he had taken part while serving 
in the Guards before the war. 

‘ It will be just a show of fighting material in fit 
condition,’ agreed Oliver. 

‘ What ’s left o’ it,’ muttered Rock, who was clear- 
ing away. ‘Most o’ the fightin’ material we came 
out with is buried, and what ain’t buried is desertin’, 
seems to me.’ 

‘ What do you mean, you optimistic old sunbeam ? ’ 
asked Vivian. 

‘You know that chap Wilson of A company, ’im 
what was always a-playin’ the goat an’ chaffin’ an’ 


larfin ’ ? ’ 


280 


THE REVIEW. 


‘ Sunny Jim, as the men call him ? Of course ; 
every one in the regiment knows him.’ 

‘Well, some o’ the chaps got papers this mornin’ 
as was sent from ’ome, an’ the news o’ that there 
Zeppelin raid on London was in ’em.’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘ An’ amongst the killed is this ’ere Wilson’s wife 
an’ kid.’ 

‘Good gracious ! Yes, I remember seeing the name 
now ; but, of course, I never thought it would be any 
relation of his. What rotten luck ! ’ 

‘ That ’s what ’e sez, an’ ’e ’s bolted.’ 

‘ What do you mean ? ’ asked Oliver. 

‘Just what I ’eard; I don’t know no more.’ 

‘ You generally get hold of enough of a story to 
arouse one’s curiosity, and that’s all,’ said Vivian. 
‘Go and find Sergeant Reedsdale; he’ll be sure to 
know all about it.’ 

In a few minutes Reedsdale was present, and 
Vivian was questioning him. 

‘ I ’m afraid what you ’ve heard is quite right, sir,’ 
said the sergeant. ‘Wilson saw in a paper which 
had been sent out from England that his wife and 
only child were killed in the last Zeppelin raid on 
London. At first he didn’t seem to realise it; then 
he jumped up — he had been sitting down — gave a 
sort of cry as though he were being choked, turned 
ghastly pale, and fell down in a kind of fit. We got 
him on to a bed, where he lay for an hour ; then I 
am told he took his rifle, all the ammunition he could 
lay hands on, and left his quarters. Since then he 
has not been seen.’ 

‘ Very extraordinary ! Has the matter been re- 
ported to the Major ? ’ 


THE REVIEW. 


281 


‘Yes, sir.’ 

‘ Well, we can do no more. Poor Wilson ! it ’s hard 
luck to think that while he ’s here doing his bit these 
cowardly Zeppelin raiders should murder his wife 
and child.’ 

‘It is hard, sir,’ said Reedsdale; ‘and among the 
men in the regiment who have relatives living on 
the east coast or in London there is naturally much 
anxiety.’ 

Nothing was heard of Wilson that night, and next 
morning he was returned as missing, and the sur- 
vivors of the Wessex marched off without him. It 
was a miserable morning ; a cold and gusty wind was 
blowing, and a misty rain soaked the men through. 
Tramp, tramp, they trudged along in the sludge, 
and by the time they had arrived at their destination 
they were fairly tired. They were halted near a 
small village. A mile away, in a fine meadow, the 
King was inspecting about ten thousand men ; and, the 
inspection and march past being over, the men doubled 
off, and lined the road along which his Majesty was 
going to pass. As he did so, three rousing cheers 
greeted him. 

After a brief halt in the village, the King, in a 
covered green motor, came slowly along towards 
the spot where the salute was to be taken. 

‘ Look out ! ’ came the word ; ‘ they ’re coming ; ’ and 
then came the caution, ‘ Steady ! ’ as the tired men 
pulled themselves together. 

‘ ’Shun I ’ cried Oliver to his company ; ‘ slope — arms ! 
present — arras ! ’ and as one man the soldiers came to 
the ‘ present.’ 

Then the King, alighting from his car, mounted his 
horse, and with the young Prince of Wales, General 


282 


THE REVIEW. 


Plumer, who made his reputation in the Boer war, 
a number of khaki-clad British Divisional Generals 
and Brigadiers, and a group of brilliantly uniformed 
French and Belgian officers, he inspected the lines of 
mud-stained, war-worn heroes. Afterwards the men 
marched past in splendid form, showing that months 
of trench-work had not caused them to forget their 
ceremonial movements. 

The march past over, the men formed column, and, 
with their bayoneted rifles at the slope, waited the 
word to give their monarch three cheers. Led by 
their officers, the men gave one tremendous, deep- 
throated cheer. His Majesty was just in front of the 
Wessex Fusiliers, and Oliver had his eyes fixed on 
the King, when he saw that his horse, apparently 
alarmed by the cheers, reared up on its hind-legs. 
The King, leaning forward, patted its neck, where- 
upon it came down on its four feet. An instant 
later, however, it reared higher than before, and, 
slipping, rolled right over. The King was under- 
neath; there was a momentary flash of hoofs, and, 
horror ! the King was badl}^ kicked. A dead silence 
fell upon those officers and men who saw the accident. 
Half-a-dozen of the staff flung themselves from their 
horses, the King’s kicking charger was dragged to its 
feet, and then his Majesty was seen to be lying on the 
ground. In a couple of seconds several officers lifted 
him up, and half-carried, half-led him to his car. 
Before any one but those quite near were aware that 
an accident had happened, the closed car, at full 
speed, followed by a crowd of galloping officers, was 
tearing away along the line of still cheering soldiers. 

The second review thus came to a sudden end, and 
those who had seen the accident were looking awe^ 


THE REVIEW. 


283 


stricken at one another, when a staff-officer came 
galloping along. 

‘Tell the men to keep quiet,’ he shouted to the 
officers, ‘ and march them away.’ 

This was done, the Wessex being halted about a 
mile from where the accident had taken place, while 
the other troops went on back to the trenches. 

The King had intended personally to bestow the 
Victoria Cross upon the young Sergeant Banks, of 
the Coldstream Guards, who with Oliver and Vivian 
had won back the lost trench. The presentation was 
afterwards made by General Plumer, from whom it 
was learnt that the King’s injury, though serious, was 
fortunately not dangerous. 

Later on Oliver was passing up the village street, 
when an officer, trotting towards him, pulled up his 
horse, and cried out, ‘ Hallo, Hastings ! I heard your 
regiment was here, and was wondering whether I 
should run across you or Drummond. How goes 
it?’ 

Oliver looked up and saw his old friend Major 
Dwyer. 

‘ All right,’ he replied ; ‘ and you ? ’ 

‘ First-class, my boy ! ’ 

‘ Did you come up for the review ? ’ 

‘No; I’m on special duty. I’m probably leaving 
France almost at once.’ 

‘ What ! going home ? ’ asked Oliver in surprise, 
knowing what a fire-eater the Major was. 

Major Dwyer gave a knowing wink. ‘ No, my boy, 
not by a long way,’ he replied. 

‘ Where, then, if I may ask ? ’ 

‘ You may ask, but I can’t tell you,’ grinned Dwyer. 
Then, as if an idea had suddenly seized him, he said, 


284 


THE REVIEW. 


* By Jingo ! now I come to think of it, you speak 
French like a native, don’t you ? ’ 

‘I’ve got a smattering; but I speak German 
better.’ 

‘ Hooray ! you ’re just the very man ! Drummond 
too is good at lingoes, isn’t he ? ’ 

‘ Better than I am.’ 

Dwyer beckoned Oliver closer, and, bending down 
in the saddle, whispered, ‘ How would you like a trip 
to the Eiast ? ’ 

‘ The East ! Where ? The Dardanelles ?' 

‘Hush!’ and the Major looked round him; ‘never 
mention places. But would you like a trip, not per- 
haps devoid of — say — interest ? ’ 

‘ Immensely.’ 

‘ And Drummond ? ’ 

‘ I should say so.’ 

‘ I may be able to do something for you. Keep in 
your quarters to-night, and I will send you word.’ 

‘By the way, is there any further news of his 
Majesty?’ asked Oliver, as the Major gathered up 
his reins. 

‘ Much bruised and shaken, I hear ; but nothing is 
known for certain, except that the Prince and several 
doctors are with him. His Majesty has been put to 
bed. Now I must push on. Don’t forget what I ’ve 
told you;’ and the Major trotted off. 

Oliver, having finished the business that he was 
upon, returned to the farmhouse where he was 
quartered. Vivian was not in ; but Rock said he had 
only gone to see the quartermaster about the billeting 
of some men. 

‘’Ow ’s the King, sir ? ’ asked Rock. 

Oliver repeated what he had heard. 


THE REVIEW. 


285 


‘ Ah, just what you might expect. I always ’eld as 
’orses was sullen, vicious brutes.’ 

‘ What makes you say that. Rock ? Ever had any 
experience with them ? ’ 

*’Ave I not?’ and Cheery Dick nodded his head 
vigorously. 

‘What was your experience?’ asked Oliver, who 
was often amused at Rock’s tales. 

‘ Bad, sir ; very bad ! It was all along o’ a chap 
named Lewis — Beaky Lew ’e was called. Never saw 
such a nose in all your nat’ral, sir ; more like a lob- 
ster’s claw than a ’uman nose. The whole line always 
dressed by ’is nose. Bin in the cavalry, ’e ’ad. 
Bah ! I ’ates ’em — all tassels an’ spurs, a-lollin’ about 
on their beastly ’orses while better men is trampin’ 
on their own feet. An’ swank, too ; lor’, it ’s more than 
any decent man ’u’d believe, the swank o’ the or’nary 
’orse-sojer ; ’ and Rock sniffed contemptuously. 

‘ But what about your experience with horses ? ’ 

‘I’m cornin’ to that. This ’ere Beaky Lew got 
corporal, an’ gave ’imself no end o’ airs. Me an’ ’im 
came up agin* one another once or twice, an’ ’e’d 
’ave put me on the peg several times if I ’adn’t 
bin servant to Captain Goodhart, an’ so out o’ his 
clutchea’ 

‘ Put you on the peg ? ’ queried Oliver. 

‘Yes, sir; run me in the guardroom.’ 

‘Oh, I see.* 

‘ Well, one day I ’as me nibs. I catches ’im in the 
town cornin’ out o’ a boozer while ’e was on duty.’ 

‘ Boozer being a public-house, I presume ? ’ 

‘You’ve guessed it, sir. Well, that cost ’im dear. 
’E ’d got to be civil to me after that, because if I ’d 
opened my mouth on ’im ’e’d ’ave found ’imself a 


286 


THE REVIEW. 


full private again soon, ’cos there was no nonsense 
in the Fightin’ Fifth. Well, we ’ad many a pint 
together.’ 

‘ Which he paid for, I suppose ? ’ 

‘ Most generally. He wasn’t a mean sort o’ chap ; ’ 
and Rock wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 
‘Well, one day ’e got nabbed gettin’ a drink from 
the sergeants’ mess afore twelve in the mornin’, an’ 
’e gets a wheel afore the Colonel an’ gets broke. ’E 
put it down to me blabbin’ on ’im ; but I never did, 
though ’e treasured up a grudge agin’ me.’ 

‘ But how about the horses. Rock ? ’ 

‘I’m a-goin’ to tell you. It’s soon after this as 
the army goes fair mad over this ’ere mounted in- 
fantry business. Bah, bally rot! Anyway, our 
Colonel was full o’ it. Beaky Lew, after ’e was 
broke, got a transfer, an’ disappeared, an’ I forgot 
all about ’im. It was about twelve months later 
when Captain Goodhart an’ me ’ad a slight disagree- 
ment, an’ ’e went on leave. I — er — just for a change, 
went back to reg’mental dooty, and as the result o’ 
a bit o’ a’ accident got up before the Colonel.’ 

‘Accident not unconnected with the canteen per- 
haps,’ suggested Oliver. 

‘Nothin’ o’ the sort, sir. I got mixed up with a 
debatin’ society, that ’s all. Well, the Colonel always 
was a bit funny, an’ ’e says I ’ad a disturbin’ influ- 
ence on the recruits, an’ a month or two away from 
the reg’ment ’u’d do me good; an’, thinkin’ ’e was 
goin’ to send me on some detachment dooty, I quite 
agrees ; when ’e ups an’ says ’e ’d send me to Aider- 
shot with the next Mounted Infantry squad. I told 
’im I fair ’ated ’orses ; but no good ! Away I ’as to go. 
The very first man I see when we marched up to the 


THE REVIEW. 


287 


M.I. quarters was Beaky Lew, an’ a full corporal, too. 
I knew I was in for a bad time ; but I pretended not 
to notice ’im, nor ’im me, but I sees ’is eyes twinkle 
each side that Punch’s nose. Well, the next mornin’ 
we goes into the ridin’ school, an’ Beaky was in 
charge. 

‘’E pretends to be surprised when ’e sees me, an’ 
says, “ ’Alio, Rock ; fancy you bein’ ’ere ! ” 

‘ We ’d brought the ’orses from the stable, an’ I ’ad 
a’ old-lookin’ beast ; but Beaky says, “ ’Ere, Rock, you 
take this ’orse,” an’ points to one as another man ’ad. 
An’ ’e was an ’orrible beast — great black ’ead an’ two 
eyes what looked red, an’ all the time a-tossin’ his 
’ead up an’ down.’ 

‘ Showing he was pleased to see you. Rock.’ 

‘ So I should think. We was told ’ow to stand in 
front o’ the ’orses, with a rein in each ’and, an’ first 
thing the ’orse does is to chuck up ’is ’ead an’ nearly 
knock me over. I jumps back, still grabbin’ the reins, 
an’ the ’orse steps forward an’ ’its me on the side o’ 
the foot with ’is ’oof. 

‘Beaky Lew comes blindin’ along an’ asks ’ow I 
dare move. I was too old a soldier to get chewin’ 
the rag to ’im, but I just thought a few things. Then 
we ’ad to mount, an’ every time I tried to put my 
foot up that beast goes backin’ away, an’ Beaky Lew 
cussin’ me somethin’ ’orrible. At last I gets on, an’ 
we walks round the school. That was all right till 
we tried a trot ; then I thought my ’ead would be 
jolted off. “ ’Old ’ard ! ” I shouts, an’ pulls the ’orse’s 
’ead. 

* “ ’Ow dare you talk in the school ? ” shouts Beaky. 
“ Do you think you ’re drivin’ a cab ? Keep your 
’eels down, an’ let ’is ’ead alone,” or some such bally 


288 


THE REVIEW. 


rot. ’Owever, I’d ’ad enough, an’ I told ’im so. 
’Owl ever got through the hour I don’t know, but 
at last it was over, an’ we was dismissed. 

‘ “ ’Ow are you gettin’ on, Rock ? ” Beaky asks 
when we was in the stable. 

‘ “ Oh, I dare say I shall do in time,” I answers. 

“*I dare say you will,” ’e says, silky like. “It 
ain’t more than 20 per cent, what gets badly ’urt, an’ 
not more than 10 per cent, gets killed, in the school.” 

‘ I was real ill for a day after that first ride, but 
the second was worse. A chap ’ad given me a 
wrinkle ’ow to keep on ; but the beast I was ridin’ 
kept rushin’ away an’ a-bitin’ at the ’orse’s tail in 
front o’ ’im, an’ when I pulled ’im in ’e either kicks 
out or stands stock-still, an’ Beaky Lew was cussin’ 
me all the time. After one o’ these ’ere rushes the 
’orse stuck still an’ wouldn’t move, an’ Beaky cut 
’im with ’is whip, when off ’e goes, kicks at another 
’orse, chucks me off, an’ lands me on the arm. I 
made up my mind I ’d done with ridin’, an’ lay still, 
an’ wouldn’t move. So they carried me to ’orspital, 
an’ there I stuck seven weeks, an’ I’d a-bin there 
now afore I ’d ha’ done any more ridin’.’ 

‘ How did you get out of it. Rock ? ’ 

‘Oh, I just waited till Captain Goodhart came 
back, an’ then I wrote to ’im, an’ ’e come an’ see 
me. O’ course ’e couldn’t do without me, an’ as I 
wasn’t likely to make a good mounted infantryman, 
I was dismissed from the squad, an’ went back to 
my old job as ’is servant.’ 

‘ And what about Beaky Lew ? ’ 

‘ Poor old Beaky ! ’E got sergeant, an’ went out 
with the M.I. to the Boer war. ’E was killed at 
Sauna’s Post, an’ I carved ’is name on a nice little 


THE REVIEW. 289 

cross ; ’ and Cheery Dick shook his head sadly. ‘ An’ 
now, sir, you know why I ’ate ’orses.’ 

‘ Hate horses, do you ? ’ exclaimed Vivian, entering 
at that moment. ‘ Mind you never have to eat them.’ 

* I ’ve ’ad to do that afore now,’ said Cheery Dick ; 
* but that tale will do for another time.’ 

Oliver told Vivian what Major Dwyer had said, 
and Vivian and he made various conjectures as to 
what was taking the Major to the East. Later that 
evening a motor-car stopped at the door, and a R.E. 
man entered with a letter addressed to Oliver. The 
note ran ; 

‘ Come along with bearer to headquarters. Bring 
Captain Drummond. — Ys. in haste, 

‘Terence Dwyer.’ 

‘By Jove! I wonder what’s up?’ exclaimed 
Vivian excitedly. 

‘ Come with me, and we ’ll soon see,’ replied Oliver ; 
and five minutes later they were speeding away in 
a car on their way to headquarters. 


O.H. 


s 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 


LIVER and Vivian were soon at the small and 



unpretentious villa in which Sir John French 
had his quarters. As the car pulled up Major Dwyer 
met them and took them inside to a small room, in 
which several aides-de-camp and various staff-officers 
were sitting or standing about. 

‘ Sir John is busy just at present,’ Dwyer explained, 
‘but he’ll see us directly. It will be no good my 
saying anything about what ’s on, as he will explain 
all, and you don’t want to go over the ground twice.’ 

‘ You might give us a hint of the business,’ said 
Oliver. 

‘ It ’s simply a trip out to Serbia, and your know- 
ledge of languages will be most handy. You know 
it ’s my weak point ; but I ’m strong on guns. A 
couple of staff- officers should go with me, and I 
recommended you.’ 

‘ But we ’re not staff-officers.’ 

‘ That can be remedied in two minutes.’ 

Soon an orderly officer came out, and, addressing 
Dwyer, said, ‘Sir John is ready to see you, Major. 
Are these the officers you spoke of ? ’ 

‘ Yes, sir.’ 

* Come along, then ; ’ and in a moment they were all 
in the Commander-in-Chief’s room. 

Sir John sat at a large table covered with maps 
and papers ; on his left was his Chief of Staff, Sir 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 291 

Douglas Haig. As the officers entered Sir John 
looked up. 

‘ Ah ! ’ he said, ‘ I seldom forget names, and never 
faces. I remember you both quite well. You went 
with Major Bishop from Landrecies to General Fleurot 
at Avesnes. You ’d been serving with the Belgians.’ 

‘Quite right. Sir John,’ replied Vivian. 

‘You’re Drummond of the Coldstreamers ; and this 
young man — let me see— Hastings, are you not ? ’ 

‘ Yes, Sir John.’ 

‘ Still lieutenants ? ’ looking at the two stars on 
their cuffs, for they had had no opportunity of adding 
the third. 

‘ Captains, Sir J ohn.’ 

‘ Ah, just made, I suppose. This is a young man’s 
war.’ 

He spoke a few words quietly to Sir Douglas Haig, 
then motioned Oliver, Vivian, and Major Dwyer, who 
had been standing, to sit down. He was silent for 
a few moments, and, as is his wont, seemed to be 
communing with himself. Then, looking towards the 
young officers, though he still seemed in a reverie, 
he said, ‘It has become necessary, in view of the 
recent development of affairs in the Balkans, to send 
a trusty messenger to Admiral Troubridge, who has 
been on special service in Serbia for some months. 
The Home Government received certain information, 
and made proposals which it is impossible for me 
to carry out. But unless Admiral Troubridge knows 
that I am not carrying out these proposals, which 
he has been informed that I shall do, it may lead 
to very unpleasant consequences. Do you follow me 
so far ? ’ 

Oliver and Vivian replied in the affirmative. 


292 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 


'Very well. Now, I am in possession of some facts 
about the Balkan business which I doubt whether 
even the Foreign Secretary knows, and I am acting 
on that information. Briefly, Armenia is wiped out ; 
Montenegro is knocked out ; Serbia is doomed. This 
time Germany and Austria are determined to over- 
run the country, and Belgium teaches us what that 
means. Ferdinand of Bulgaria, a mere tool of the 
Kaiser, has betrayed Russia and thrown in his lot 
with Germany. He will invade Serbia from the 
east, and, so far as I can see, nothing can save the 
country. France and Britain, no matter how willing 
they may be to help Serbia, will, I am afraid, be 
too late.’ Here Sir John sighed. ‘And there’s no 
saying in the least,’ he went on, ‘what effect this 
may have on our other operations. The Greek king 
is governed by his wife, a German, and were it not 
for the will of the people would join the Central 
Powers to-morrow. In any case, we must be pre- 
pared. Then Roumania, although distinctly favour- 
able to us, must after all look to herself ; and if Serbia 
is sacrificed she may think her turn will come next, 
and may be dragooned into joining the Central 
Powers. So you see it ’s a very difficult and compli- 
cated problem.’ 

Some further talk on the subject followed, and 
then Sir John said, ‘The situation which may be 
created will not be one that can be dealt with in a 
cut-and-dried fashion. The men on the spot must 
know how much — or how little — they can expect 
from us, and must be able to act at once. I shall 
send letters, of course in cipher, to Admiral Trou- 
bridge and General Sir B. Mahon. You can sup- 
plement them from your own knowledge ; and being. 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 


293 


as I know, capable and resourceful men, may be very 
useful in case of their being in a tight corner. Major 
Dwyer goes out to lend a hand to Admiral Troubridge 
with the guns — not that we can teach naval men any- 
thing about gunnery, but I am afraid the situation 
ahead of us is one that will demand a knowledge 
of the best way to transport guns rapidly across 
awkward country rather than how to use them on 
the enemy. In that respect Major Dwyers experi- 
ence will be invaluable. Now, such is the mission. 
Will you undertake it V 

Both officers said they would be delighted, on which 
Sir John told Sir Douglas Haig to make the necessary 
arrangements, and bade Oliver and Vivian be back 
at headquarters by seven o’clock in the morning. 

Sir Douglas Haig went into an adjoining room 
with the three officers. 

‘ You ’re dashed lucky fellows ! ' he said, ‘ and, I can 
tell you, ought to feel yourselves highly honoured at 
being entrusted with this mission by Sir John. He 
is very particular whom he employs, and you can 
take it from me that he has to feel perfectly assured 
he can implicitly trust any one before he employs 
him.’ 

‘We do feel honoured, I’m sure,’ said Vivian. 

‘ A pleasant rest and change of scenery, a charming 
trip with just a dash of danger to make it exciting ! 
And now let me warn you ; be well armed, trust no 
strangers, and beware of spies. They are the curse 
of this campaign ; everything we do or say or even 
think of seems known to the enemy. How they get 
their knowledge entirely puzzles us; we have had 
the best detectives from home over here, but they 
cannot find out how the news leaks out. We only 


294 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 


know that it does, and some of our best thought-out 
plans have been ruined through being betrayed. You 
will carry news and instructions of the very greatest 
importance, news which would be of tremendous use 
to the enemy, and which he would stick at nothing 
to obtain. So be on your guard, and take no risks.’ 

‘ Trust us for that. Sir Douglas,’ said Major Dwyer. 

‘ My two young comrades here are as slippery as 
eels, and I ’m as wary as a fox. The Huns will have 
to be very smart who get over us.’ 

‘They may not be Huns; they may be Turks or 
Greeks or Russians ; even Englishmen ! ’ said Sir 
Douglas Haig pointedly. ‘Trust no one.’ He gave 
Vivian a letter for Major Lloyd explaining affairs. 

‘ I expect the Major won’t like this. Sir Douglas,’ 
said Oliver ; ‘ to take two out of his four officers will 
be very awkward.’ 

‘ I made inquiries before you came over this evening. 
Your regiment is going right to the rear for drill and 
reorganisation. There is a strong draft with several 
officers, some old ones who have been wounded and 
have now rejoined, at St Quentin, and the regiment 
will be moved there to-morrow.’ 

‘ I ’m glad of that, for I shouldn’t like to miss any 
work the battalion might be called upon to do. I ’ve 
been with it since it left England.’ 

‘And will very likely be back again in France 
before it goes into the trenches again.’ 

Major Dwyer was staying at headquarters, and 
Oliver, Vivian, and he stood together for a few 
moments talking outside, Dwyer being in the best 
of spirits. ‘ It ’s just the luckiest beggars in France 
we are,’ he said as he shook hands with them. 
‘ We ’ll run on to Paris to-morrow just to make 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 


295 


ourselves decent again. Then we ’ll have the trip of 
our lives. If we don’t enjoy ourselves we deserve to 
be miserable.’ 

As Oliver and Vivian got in the car the former 
thought he saw a man start from the shadow and 
make off in the opposite direction. ‘I wonder who 
that was ? ’ he said to Vivian. ‘ Seemed to be lurking 
in the dark.’ 

' Oh, probably one of our chaps.’ 

‘ Perhaps so, but you never know. I must warn 
Dwyer about talking so loudly;’ and the subject was 
dropped. 

Rock met them on their return, and, with that 
peculiar knack he had, looked at them both as 
though endeavouring to find out what they had 
been doing. 

‘ By Jove ! I forgot Rock,’ said Oliver. ‘ I expect 
he ’ll have something to say about this business.’ 

‘And won’t like losing us. I wonder what the 
Major will do with him.’ 

‘ Goodness knows. We ’ll tell him we ’re going, and 
see what he says.’ 

‘ Goin’ east, gentlemen,’ he answered lightly. ‘ Well, 
it ’s got to be thunderin’ bad there to be as bad as it 
is west, an’ I always did like ’ot climates. I ’d sooner 
sojer out east than anywhere.’ 

‘ But I ’m afraid you won’t go. Rock.’ 

The old man, who was just going out of the room, 
stood with his hand on the door. ‘I don’t know 
what you’d a’ done out ’ere without me,’ he said; 
‘ but out east, pooh ! — you ’d be simply lost. If you 
go east, I go too.’ 

‘ But we ’re going on a secret mission. Rock.’ 

‘ I don’t want to know nothin’ about the mission. 


296 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 


Never did ’old with ’em myself; only upset the 
natives.’ 

* It ’s not the sort of mission you ’re thinking of.’ 

‘ No matter, you ’re a-goin’ to take baggage o’ some 
sort, I suppose.’ 

^Yes.’ 

‘Very well then, I go as baggage;’ and Kock 
walked off. 

‘ Upon my word, I ’d sooner take the old scoundrel 
than leave him behind,’ said Vivian. 

‘But you were angry with me, if I remember 
rightly, when I first suggested taking him as a 
servant.’ 

‘ The old man ’s proved his merit since then. He ’s 
a soldier, anyway.’ 

‘Let’s see what the Major says about it;’ and, 
taking Sir Douglas Haig’s letter, they found their 
commanding officer. 

‘ I say, this is some cool, taking my two best officers,’ 
said Major Lloyd. 

Oliver told him what Sir Douglas had said about 
the regiment going to a base camp. ‘ Well, of course, 
if Sir John wants you, you must go ; but if you do 
go, for heaven’s sake take that old Rock with you. 
You’re the only people who can do anything with 
him. He ’d upset the whole regiment.’ 

The next morning Oliver received a brief note from 
Skinner, saying that Colonel Hastings was improving, 
and that it was hoped he would soon be able to be 
moved to a base hospital. The good news put both 
him and Vivian in the best of spirits. 

Rock accompanied his two masters to headquarters, 
and Major Dwyer thought it would be a good idea to 
take a reliable servant with them. ‘ We may as well 


A SPECIAL MISSION. 


297 


make ourselves comfortable on the journey/ he said, 
‘and the man looks one of the right sort, the old 
long-service man.’ 

‘ Oh, he ’s all right,’ said Oliver. 

‘When you know him,’ added Vivian. 

‘ Which is more than can be said of some people, 
for the better you know them the less right they 
are.’ 

Sir Douglas Haig thought that it was a good idea 
to have a sharp, reliable servant with them, and 
presently their letters were given them, together 
with their final instructions, and Sir John French, 
shaking hands with them, wished them God-speed. 

Rock had made up his mind from the first that he 
was going to be of the party, and expressed no surprise 
when he was told he was going. A visit to the pay- 
master for money had to be made, and then, in a 
sixty horse-power car, away they went to Paris. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 

P ARIS seemed to appeal to Private Rock. He 
was frankly pleased with it. Shops and 
streets, a real big river and bridges, trees and 
arches and monuments! ‘ Fair civilised,’ he confided 
to Oliver, beside whom he sat. ‘ A few more people 
about, fewer closed shops, more traffic in the streets, 
an’ a — er — public-’ouse ’ere an’ there, just to liven 
it up a bit; an’ then, why, you could almost fancy 
yourself in Oxford Street or on the Embankment.* 

The officers had a good deal to do in Paris. Ward- 
robes had to be very largely replenished, trunks 
bought, a few of the little luxuries of life, such as 
slippers, towels, books, and so on, procured ; and then 
the luxury of a bath and a hair-cut, followed by a 
good lunch, made them feel different beings. 

They went for a stroll afterwards. Rock a few 
steps behind. To the officers, who knew Paris well, 
the changes wrought by the war were in sad evidence ; 
but the people seemed in good spirits ; and, going with 
a stream of laughing, chattering Parisians, the officers 
reached the Invalides, where the great attraction was 
found to be the guns recently captured from the 
Germans. There were guns of fifty-seven, seventy- 
seven, and one hundred and fifty mm., great howitzers 
and mortars, mitrailleuses, minenwerfers, searchlights, 
and trophies of all sorts. The guns numbered nearly 
one hundred, and aroused the greatest enthusiasm. 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


299 


‘Here we see some of the fruits of the fighting/ 
said Oliver. ‘ It cheers one up, and makes one feel 
one hasn’t fought in vain.’ 

The British uniforms and speech attracted the 
attention of the Parisians, and smiles, greetings, 
and occasionally handshakes were bestowed upon the 
officers, who sometimes found the attentions to which 
they were subjected a little trying. 

They were just moving away from the Invalides 
when Bock, who had been looking at the people more 
than at the guns, touched Oliver gently on the arm. 
‘Don’t look round suddenly, sir,’ he whispered, ‘but 
notice presently that old man on your right front. 
’E’s been following us for some time, an’ I’m sure 
’e tried to catch what you were talking about.’ 

‘ Right ! ’ said Oliver, and presently, turning round 
in a casual way, he saw an old man, with a close- 
cropped white beard, wearing a soft felt hat and 
smoke-coloured glasses, standing a little way from 
them, apparently looking at the guns. 

‘Keep an eye on him. Rock,’ whispered Oliver, 
giving his two companions the signal. They all lit 
cigarettes, talked and laughed, and walked off as 
though they hadn’t a care in the world. 

Arrived at the hotel, Oliver said to Rock, ‘Well, 
what happened ? Did the old man follow us ? ’ 

‘ Yes. I saw ’im several times, an’ ’e spoke to two 
others. When ’e saw me lookin’ at ’im ’e disappeared 
down a side street ; but I ’m sure one of the others 
watched us in ’ere.’ 

‘Splendid, Rock! You’re quite a detective;’ and 
Oliver talked the matter over with his companions. 

‘ It seems as if we were followed,’ said Vivian, ‘ and 
my experience of German methods warns me to be 


300 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


careful. We must also remember what Sir Douglas 
said. Let’s be on our guard, and keep our pistols 
handy.’ 

Major Dwyer, who rather prided himself on his 
knowledge of gastronomic matters, ordered an excel- 
lent dinner ; and, as they wanted to talk freely among 
themselves. Rock received the dishes and waited upon 
them. 

They had a most excellent repast, and then Oliver 
said, ‘ Now, Rock, you go and get a good feed, and 
wash it down with a bottle of wine. But only one, 
remember.’ 

‘ Yes, sir.’ 

‘And tell our waiter, who speaks English quite 
well, to bring coffee.’ 

‘ Yes, sir ; ’ and Rock departed. 

Dwyer produced his cigar-case, and presently the 
waiter brought in the silver coffee and milk pots, and 
after mixing the beverage according to the taste of 
the diners, retired. Dwyer was full of fun, and was 
spinning all sorts of racy anecdotes, which kept 
Oliver and Vivian continually chuckling, until a very 
funny story about a brigade major under whom he 
had once served put them in a roar of laughter. 

‘ You ’ll kill me, major,’ said Vivian, as he ceased 
laughing ; and, picking up his cup, was about to sip 
his coffee when Rock dashed into the room, literally 
hurled himself across it, and knocked the cup from 
Vivian’s hand. It went flying across the room, 
struck against the door, and broke, the contents 
spilling all over the place. 

Vivian, his face flushing crimson, rose to his 
feet. 

‘ Private Rock,’ he said in quiet tones, though there 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


301 


was a vibrant note of anger in his voice, ‘what is 
the meaning of this outrageous conduct ? ’ 

Rock, pale and agitated, stood before the three 
officers. ‘’Ave any of you gentlemen tasted the 
cawfee ? ’ he asked. 

‘ Answer my question ! ’ demanded Vivian sternly. 

‘ For Gawd’s sake, sir, answer mine ! ’ insisted 
Rock. 

Oliver, seeing that the old soldier was in deadly 
earnest, said, ‘ I have not tasted mine ; neither have 
you, Dwyer, have you ? ’ 

‘No.’ 

‘ Nor I,’ said Vivian ; ‘ but I demand an explana- 
tion of Rock’s conduct.’ 

‘ Which is simple, sir. The cawfee is poisoned.' 

‘ What ? ’ cried Oliver. ‘ Explain yourself. Rock.’ 

‘ Certainly, sir. After I told the waiter chap about 
the cawfee, I was thinkin’ o’ gettin’ my snack ; an’, 
not likin’ to ask these ’ere waiters, who seem so 
almighty sidey, I goes down below to see if I could 
fix my scoff* up in the kitchen. I was nosin’ about 
downstairs, quietly like, when I sees that chap in the 
dark glasses sneakin’ along a passage. I ’id myself 
to see what ’is little game was, when^I sees ’im in 
the kitchen a-talkin’ to the cook feller. ’E ’ands 
’im something an’ disappears, an’ then I sees the 
cook take the cawfee-pot an’ pop into it something 
out of a bit o’ white paper. ’E then puts the things 
on a tray, an’ the chap in the glasses went out of a 
side door. I followed ’im, an’ found ’e’d gone up 
the area an’ into the street. I nipped after ’im an’ 
’e ’ears me, an’ takes to ’is ’eels, an’ runs like mad. 
I shouted out for some one to stop ’im ; but, not 
know in’ their lingo, no one takes any notice, an’ ’e 


302 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


gets away down a side street. Then like lightnin’ it 
flashes on my mind that it was your cawfee, an’ that 
that ’ere stuff* in the paper was poison. Back I tears, 
an’ gets in just in time to catch you a-goin’ to 
drink.’ 

The three officers cross-questioned Rock, but he 
stuck to his story in every detail. 

‘ There ’s certainly something in this,’ said Oliver, 
‘ and it ’s quite simple to put the matter to the test. 
Could you swear to the man who put the powder in 
the coffee. Rock ? ’ 

* Pick ’im out of a thousand, sir.’ 

‘Very well then, hide yourself behind that curtain. 
I shall send for the chef ; if he ’s the man who put 
the powder in the coffee, Rock, just cough slightly.— 
Now, Vivian, kindly ring the bell, and leave the rest 
to me.’ 

Vivian did as he was bidden, and the waiter 
appeared. 

‘ We have enjoyed a very good dinner,’ said Oliver, 
‘well cooked and well served. We should like to 
thank the chef and the proprietor ; kindly ask them 
to spare us a few minutes.’ 

‘Yes, monsieur;’ and the waiter hurried away. 

In three minutes the proprietor, a Frenchman of 
pronounced type, all smiles, appeared ; and while 
Oliver was making a complimentary speech the chef 
knocked at the door, and was bidden to enter. He 
was a stout, dark man, with a well-waxed mous- 
tache. 

No sooner had he entered the room than two sten- 
torian coughs sounded from behind the curtain. 

‘ Good-evening,’ said Vivian. 

‘ Good-evening, messieurs,’ replied the chef 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


303 


At the first sound of his voice Oliver suspected 
that he was not a pure-bred Frenchman. 

‘ You are not a Parisian, I think.’ 

‘Ndf* monsieur, I am Swiss;’ and the three officers 
noticed that while he spoke he gave them a rapid 
glance, and then looked at the coffee, still untasted in 
the cups. 

* German-Swiss ? ’ asked Oliver. 

‘ No, monsieur ; from Geneva.’ 

‘ H’m ! Your cooking does you credit.’ 

‘ Thank you, monsieur.’ 

‘ And I wish to thank you.’ 

The chef bowed. 

‘ Rock, guard the door,’ said Oliver in English ; and 
as the soldier emerged from his hiding-place and 
walked stolidly across to the door, which he locked, 
putting the key in his pocket, the chef turned 
pale. 

‘It is a curious custom of mine that when I have 
thoroughly enjoyed a dinner,’ continued Oliver in 
French, ‘ I always ask the chef to take a cup of 
coffee with me.’ 

‘ Pardon, monsieur, I never take coffee. It is poison 
to me.’ 

‘ Indeed,’ replied Oliver dryly, ‘ that is strange. I 
had an idea this beverage which you so carefully 
prepared would be poison to us too.’ 

The chef turned paler still. ‘Monsieur jokes,’ he 
said. 

‘I was never farther from joking in my life. Now, 
drink this cup of coffee,’ and Oliver pushed a small 
cup of the black cofiee towards him. 

‘ I cannot, monsieur.’ 

‘ I must insist.’ 


304 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


‘ And I must refuse.’ 

Oliver drew an automatic pistol from the side- 
pocket of his tunic. *You will drink that cup of 
coffee before I count ten,’ he said, ‘ or I shall be under 
the painful necessity of shooting you. I am not 
always a sure shot, and I might have to shoot several 
times before I kill you. It will be easier for you to 
drink the coffee.’ 

The man grew angry, and, turning to the pro- 
prietor, said, ‘Monsieur, am I to be bullied and 
threatened thus by English officers who have taken 
too much wine ? ’ 

The proprietor looked in astonishment from one 
to the other. ‘What is the meaning of this extra- 
ordinary conduct ? ’ he asked. 

Oliver in a few words explained. The proprietor’s 
face grew grave. The chef declared that the whole 
tale was a pure fabrication, and no stranger had been 
in the kitchen that evening. 

‘ This man has been with me three years,’ said the 
proprietor ; ‘ and he has always given me satisfaction. 
True, when the Zeppelins raided Paris it was stated 
that lights were signalled from the roof, and Loui? 
fell under suspicion.’ 

‘ But I was acquitted, monsieur,’ said the chef 

‘Yes, nothing could be proved against you. But 
you said just now that you never drank coffee. That 
is a falsehood. You are very fond of it.’ 

Louis hung his head. 

‘That settles it,’ said Oliver. ‘You’ll drink this 
coffee or be shot.’ 

‘ Drink it, Louis,’ said the proprietor ; ‘if it is all 
right, as you say, it cannot hurt you.* 

‘ I will not,’ replied Louis. 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


305 


Oliver began to count, when the proprietor inter- 
posed. ‘ Gentlemen,* he said, * if you shoot this man 
in my hotel it will make a scandal, and in these days 
one cannot afford to have the least breath of suspicion 
against one. I have staying in the hotel Lieutenant 
Marcel, of the provost- major’s staff. Let us call him, 
and hand the affair over to him. I can assure you 
he will see justice done.’ 

Oliver explained the matter to Dwyer, who could 
only imperfectly follow what had been said. He at 
once agreed, and in two minutes a debonair young 
lieutenant, in immaculate uniform, joined them. He 
saluted the three British officers punctiliously, and 
then inquired in what way he could serve them. 
The position was explained, and his handsome face 
grew stern. 

‘ Messieurs,’ he said, * I am sorry you should have 
been annoyed thus. The matter is simplicity itself. 
This Louis has come under suspicion before. We 
have a short way with spies and traitors in Paris. 
The man shall be arrested and the coffee analysed. 
If there is poison in it. Monsieur Louis will never see 
another sunset;’ and he shrugged his shoulders. He 
scribbled a few lines on the back of a card, which 
he handed to the proprietor, and in a few minutes 
two soldiers appeared and marched Louis off between 
them. Another poured the coffee back into the pot, 
and took charge of it. 

Lieutenant Marcel passed his cigarette-case round, 
shook hands with the officers, and asked if they were 
staying in Paris. 

‘No, we leave to-night for Brindisi,’ said Oliver. 

‘ Indeed ! Then I wish you hon voyage. A tele- 
gram would reach you to-morrow at Bologna ? * 

o.u. T 


306 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 


‘ I believe so.’ 

‘ To whom should I address it.’ 

* Oh, to Major Dwj^er, Royal Artillery, our senior.* 

Lieutenant Marcel again saluted, and took his 

departure, while the proprietor expressed his regret 
at the untoward incident. 

* My dear sir, it is no fault of yours. If this Louis 
is in the pay of Germany, which I quite expect, he 
would naturally always be on the lookout not to be 
discovered. Germany does not employ fools.’ 

‘ In the pay of Germany ! ’ cried the proprietor 

angrily. * If he is Well, well, I know Lieutenant 

Marcel. It will go hard with Monsieur Louis.’ 

‘Well, I’m hanged!’ said Major Dwyer when the 
proprietor had departed. ‘Who’d have thought of 
this ? ’ 

‘ It shows that we are watched, and our mission is 
going to be balked if possible,’ said Oliver. 

‘And, Rock, I owe you an apology,’ said Vivian, 
handing the old soldier a twenty-franc note. ‘You 
are a jewel, and I fancy we all ow^e you our lives.’ 

‘ By Jove I I believe w^e do,’ agreed Dwyer. 

Rock folded and pocketed the note. ‘Some day 
you ’ll find out what ’elpless babes you are without 
me,’ he said. ‘ But why didn’t you shoot the blighter, 
Mr Hastings ? ’ 

‘I didn’t want the beggar’s blood on my hands, 
though I would have shot him if the proprietor 
hadn’t interfered.’ 

‘Never draw a gun unless you mean to use it, sir,’ 
said Rock, shaking his head. ‘ I lost a good pal once 
through that ; but it ’s a long story.’ 

‘ You shall spin it in the train. Rock,’ said Vivian ; 
‘ and that reminds me, time is getting on. Our train 


ROCK PROVES HIS WORTH. 307 

is eight forty-five, I think, so you ’d better get your 
dinner, Kock, and you shall eat it here.* 

An hour later they boarded the southern express, 
securing a sleeping-car for themselves, and a small 
separate compartment for Rock and their luggage, 
which was very little, next to them. There were a 
good many people travelling by the train, and the 
officers looked at the well-dressed crowd with interest. 

All being at last in their places, away they went. 
Oliver and his companions were in high spirits ; and, 
forgetting the incident of Monsieur Louis, determined 
to enjoy the trip as only those who have been for 
months on active service can. 


CHAPTER XXXVL 


OLIVER HAS A NARROW ESCAPE. 

O LIVER turned into his bunk with a sigh of 
relief, determined to enjoy ten hours’ good 
sleep. It was delicious to lie on a soft mattress 
covered with warm blankets after his months of 
trench-life. But despite feeling very tired, he slept 
badly, and was troubled with uneasy dreams. He 
could not get out of his mind the incident of the 
poisoned coffee, and in his sleep fancied that the man 
in the smoke-coloured glasses was mixing prussic 
acid with coffee, and after the usual * stand to ’ in the 
trenches was compelling the whole platoon to drink 
it, and they were falling down man by man as they 
did so. 

He awoke with a start, and thought he heard a 
crash in the compartment occupied by Rock. Full 
of apprehension, he slipped from his bunk, and in his 
sock -covered feet crept into Cheery’s compartment. 
The carriage lamp was dimmed with a blue cover, 
and for a moment he could distinguish nothing ; then 
he saw a sight that fully aroused him. 

On his knees, before a small leather suit-case 
which Oliver had bought the day before in Paris, 
was the man in the smoke-coloured glasses. He 
had ripped open the case with a big clasp-knife, 
which lay on the ground beside him, and was 
turning over the contents as though searching for 
something. 


OLIVER HAS A NARROW ESCAPE. 


309 


‘ Hallo, you scoundrel ! ’ cried Oliver, ‘ what are you 
doing ? ’ 

Quick as lightning the man turned, whipped a pistol 
from his pocket, and pointed it at Oliver. ‘Utter 
a sound,’ he hissed, ‘ and you are a dead man ! ’ 

Something in the man’s voice sounded familiar, 
and, the smoke-coloured glasses falling off at the 
same moment, Oliver recognised him. ‘ Loffel ! ’ he 
gasped. 

‘ Fool, you have sealed your doom !’ and there was 
a flash, a bang, and a bullet chipped Oliver’s ear. 
He staggered back at the same instant as a heavy 
boot, hurled by Rock, who had suddenly awoke, flew 
across the compartment and struck Loffel on the 
wrist, knocking the pistol from his hand. With a 
snarl he leapt to his feet, and, pushing Oliver back- 
ward, dashed down the corridor. Recovering himself, 
Oliver followed, until, on throwing open a door of 
communication, he ran into the arms of one of the 
conductors, who held him firmly. 

‘ Let me go, idiot ! ’ cried Oliver. 

‘ Are you mad, monsieur ? What is the matter ? ’ 

‘ A man shot at me, and ran along here.’ 

The conductor looked incredulous, and, some other 
passengers coming from their compartments, a great 
confusion arose. At the same time the train began 
to slow down. Oliver pushed his way from the 
chattering passengers, and ran along the corridor 
until he came to an open door, at which stood a 
Frenchman in pyjamas. 

‘ What is the matter, monsieur ? ’ asked the latter. 

‘ I am after a man who shot at me.’ 

‘ A gray-bearded man ? ’ 

‘Yes.’ 


310 


OLIVER HAS A NARROW ESCAPE. 


‘ He opened this door and went on to the footboard.’ 

In an instant Oliver had followed, and, holding the 
side-rail, was working his way along the footboard 
too. The speed was slackening rapidly, and the train 
had almost stopped before, at grave danger of break- 
ing his neck, Oliver had reached the engine. But no 
LofFel could be seen. 

The train came to a standstill, and the engine- 
driver, looking in surprise at Oliver, asked if it was 
he who had pulled the alarm cord and stopped the 
train. 

‘ No, it must have been the man I was after,’ replied 
Oliver in vexed tones. 

The chief conductor came up to the engine, and 
explanations had to be given. They both returned 
to the train, and Dwyer and Vivian joining Oliver, 
he explained what had happened. 

‘ LofFel is as cunning as Satan,’ said Vivian. ‘ It is 
clear he stopped the train, and then jumped off the 
footboard, and is now a mile behind We should 
certainly never find him.’ 

As they were then running through a dense forest, 
and it was pitch dark, the truth of Vivian’s remark 
was evident, and the train continued on its way. 
The chief conductor examined the cut suit-case, 
took voluminous notes, and searched the train from 
end to end ; but no LofFel was found. It was learnt 
that he had occupied a carriage with another 
passenger, who said he had not exchanged a word 
with him. He had been asleep, and had not noticed 
Ldflfel leave the apartment. One conductor saw him 
passing along the corridor; but, as he was fully 
dressed, he had taken no notice of him. The officers, 
not wishing to make the object of their journey public. 


OLIVER HAS A NARROW ESCAPE. 311 

pretended that the attempt was one of simple robbery, 
and so the matter ended. 

They discussed the affair amongst themselves. 

* It is clear that the scoundrel was after our de- 
spatches,* said Oliver, ‘and thought the suit-case 
the most likely place to find them, as we had no 
despatch-case.’ 

‘Do you think it really was Loffel ?’ asked Vivian. 

‘ I could swear it.’ 

‘ Then we must be doubly on our guard, for he ’s 
a most dangerous scoundrel. He’s slipped through 
our hands once more; but we must keep a sharp 
lookout for him in future.’ 

‘ If he hasn’t broken his neck,’ said Dwyer. 

‘ Not he ; he ’s all right somewhere, depend on it.’ 

Rock could throw no light on the affair. The 
noise of talking had awakened him, and he had seen 
the gray-bearded man on his knees with a pistol in 
his hand. ‘I recognised ’im at once,’ he said, ‘an’ 
shied the only thing I ’ad at ’and at ’is blinkin’ 
’ead.’ 

They all returned to their bunks, and nothing 
further happened. While they were at Bologna, in 
the afternoon of that day a telegraph-messenger 
boarded the train with a telegram for Major Dwyer. 
He tore open the envelope, and, reading the contents, 
passed it to Vivian. ‘ Put it into English,’ he said. 

‘The coffee was poisoned. Monsieur Louis was 
shot at ten o’clock. — Marcel.’ 

‘ Short, and to the point,’ said Oliver. 

‘ And we must not forget to reward your servant 
for his watchfulness,’ said Dwyer. ‘That man is a 
jewel.’ 


312 


OLIVER HAS A NARROW ESCAPE. 


The rest of the journey was without hindrance. 
It was a pleasant trip all down the coast of Italy, 
and at Brindisi a steamer was secured for Salonika, 
which port, after an uneventful run, was safely 
reached. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 

‘ Y Jove, what a scene!’ cried Major Dwyer, as 
JLJ the steamer came to anchor in the bay of 
Salonika. It was early morning, bright and sunny, 
but already rather cold. 

Oliver and Vivian looked at the picturesque city, 
topped by its ancient citadel. It was a town full of 
interest, and both of them would have liked a day or 
two to explore ; but they knew that once ashore they 
would immediately be in harness again, and would 
probably spend only a short time in Salonika. 

Hundreds of tents were to be seen as they landed, 
and British Tommies, French Poilus, Greeks, Jews, 
Serbians, Montenegrins — indeed, men of almost every 
nationality — formed a motley crowd. 

Hardly had they landed when a young staff-captain 
named Strachan took them in tow ; and, learning that 
they had letters for the officer commanding the British 
troops at Salonika, undertook to conduct them to 
him. 

‘We’re a bit early yet,’ he said. ‘If you haven’t 
breakfasted, will you favour me with your company ? ’ 

‘ Delighted,’ said Dwyer. 

‘ Are you straight from England ? ’ asked Strachan. 

‘ No ; from France,’ replied Dwyer. 

‘ Indeed, then I shall be more delighted than ever 
with your company. I ’m dying to hear some authentic 
news ; we get very little here.’ 


314 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


Captain Strachan was able to provide a very good 
breakfast, during which he asked numberless ques- 
tions about the position in France. 

‘And now, captain,’ said Vivian, after explaining 
the position when they left the trenches, ‘what of 
things here ? ’ 

‘ As bad as they can be. I don’t hold any brief for 
the Serbians, for I sometimes think that amons these 
Balkan nations it ’s six of one and half-a-dozen of the 
other. But Serbia’s most bitter enemy must be sorry 
for her now. You know, of course, that Greece, who 
promised Serbia everything, has given her nothing 
but the cold shoulder, and Bulgaria has joined in 
against her. Acting on the most approved German 
methods, Bulgaria invaded Serbia several days before 
she declared war, so as to get a good start. The 
Austro-Germans are commanded by Von Mackensen, 
one of the Kaiser’s cleverest Generals, and they and 
the Bulgarians outnumber the Serbians three to one in 
men and ten to one in guns.’ 

‘ It ’s all up with Serbia then ? ’ 

‘Absolutely. Belgrade fell on the 8th, and the 
Serbians retreated, and are now, I believe, at Nish. 
The latest is that the enemy has cut the railway 
between Nish and the south.’ 

‘ But what about the British force ? How many 
are there, and where is it ? ’ 

‘ There are not more than thirteen thousand under 
Sir Brian Mahon, and they are just north of Lake 
Doiran; the French are a bit farther ahead, at Strum- 
nitza, and are about double the British strength. 
They are absolutely powerless in point of numbers 
to undertake any serious operation against the enemy, 
and all they can hope to do is to prevent the BuL 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


315 


garians getting across the southern war-area and 
entirely cutting off the Serbian retreat.’ 

‘ By Jove ! not a very cheerful lookout,’ said Dwyer. 
‘I have to get up to Admiral Troubridge. Do you 
know where he is, and what sort of a chance I ’ve got 
of finding him ? ’ 

‘ He was with his guns at Belgrade, and we heard 
he had succeeded in saving most of them in his 
retreat ; but what ’s happened since we don’t know.’ 

Breakfast being finished, Captain Strachan took 
them along to General Wilson, who was in command 
at Salonika. 

There was much of interest to be seen in the 
streets, but there was no time to give more than 
a passing glance, and they were soon at the General’s 
quarters. 

That officer received them very cordially, deciphered 
his letters, and looked very grave at the contents. 
‘The information you bring is of the greatest im- 
portance to General Mahon,’ he said. ‘ You will have 
to proceed at once to his camp. Major Dwyer, I 
understand, is to join Admiral Troubridge, though 
whether he will be able to get through is another 
matter. Since Sir John French dictated his despatch 
events have moved rapidly here, and the situation is 
much worse.’ 

‘I’ll have, a try to get through. General,’ said 
Dwyer. 

‘And you may succeed. I am only telling you how 
matters stand to put you on your guard.’ 

In about an hour’s time the General had his letters 
ready. ‘ You seem to have made yourselves at home 
with Captain Strachan,’ he said, ‘ and you could not 
have a better guide to General Mahon than he. — You, 


316 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


gentlemen/ to Oliver and Vivian, ‘ are apparently to 
accompany Major Dwyer, and I wish you all God- 
speed and a safe return.’ 

The whole party left Salonika by rail, and were 
soon climbing the heights. The scenery, as they 
slowly puffed along, for the train was heavily laden 
with munitions, was a grand one. Mountain peaks 
towered up on each side of them, and when they got 
round the curve to Arapli they could see the town 
and harbour of Salonika behind them, with the 
blue sea rippling in the sunlight beyond that. Then, 
higher among the mountains, they caught glimpses 
of the Krusha Balkan range, with the snow-topped 
Belashitza mountains beyond that. 

About midday they reached Doiran Station, just 
south of the great lake of the same name, and here 
they alighted. British Tommies were everywhere, 
laughing and joking, and just as much at home as 
in France. Huge heaps of stores were to be seen 
on every hand, and motor-lorries were being loaded 
alongside antiquated bullock-carts, the soldiers having 
whole gangs of Greeks, Jews, Armenians, and others 
working with them. 

From the station they got a lift on a motor, and in 
the early afternoon reached the British camp. It was 
strongly entrenched, and work was going on at fever- 
heat. 

A staff-officer told them that General Mahon was 
up at the front, inspecting some new gun-emplace- 
ments, and there, presently, he was found. He keenly 
scrutinised the new-comers, took the letters handed 
to him, and placed them in his pocket. 

After questioning the officers about affairs in France, 
the General led the way to his motor, and all re- 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


317 


turned to his quarters, where he read his despatches. 
Having done so, he said, ‘You have brought me im- 
portant news ; but of a quite confidential nature. I am 
instructed that you have also despatches for Admiral 
Troubridge. I will supplement these with a letter, 
and then pass you on under escort to General Sarrail 
at Strumnitza. He has been able to push forward 
as far as Krivolak, and will be able to get you 
thus far safely on your journey. Between that and 
Veles will be your danger-zone; if you get past Veles 
you will reach Nish safely, though whether you will 
ever get back is another matter. The Bulgarians are 
straining every nerve to get astride the Yardar and 
gain possession of the Babuna pass. If they do that 
you will not be able to get back to me, and had best 
make for Monastir.’ 

The officers thanked General Mahon, and presently 
set out by motor for the French camp at Strumnitza, 
which they reached safely. 

There was some difficulty and delay in gaining 
access to General Sarrail, who seemed an even busier 
man than General Mahon. When they did reach him 
they found him very affable, though curt and soldier- 
like in his manner. ‘ Under ordinary circumstances,’ 
he said, ‘ I could not have done very much for you ; 
but it happens that I have here two Serbian officers. 
Captain Stepanovitch and Lieutenant Yassilis, who 
have come in with information from General Jivko- 
vitch. They are returning to-night, and, if they 
agree, you can go with them. I fear it would be 
useless to attempt the journey by yourselves.’ 

The British officers expressed themselves both 
obliged and delighted, on which the General asked 
them to dine with him that evening, when the two 


318 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


Serbian officers would be present. They were found 
to be well-educated and highly intelligent officers, 
both of whom spoke French fluently. Captain 
Stepanovitch spoke English also, though somewhat 
imperfectly. 

‘Serbia owes a great debt to Great Britain,’ he 
said to Oliver. ‘The Englishmen with the guns 
have fought magnificently. Perhaps it is not too 
much to say that after the fall of Belgrade they 
saved the Serbian army from capture. And of the 
doctors and the nurses who can say enough ? Your 
soldiers are brave, that every one knows; but your 
ladies, who have fought the fever — ah, their work is 
beyond all praise ! ’ 

That night, in a semi-armoured motor-car, the 
British officers, with Rock and the two Serbians, set 
off on their perilous ride. 

Captain Stepanovitch drove, and beside him sat 
Vivian. The others were in the rear of the car. It 
was exceedingly cold, and all were well wrapped up, 
besides being armed to the teeth, for their path was 
full of dangers. 

It was a brilliantly moonlit night, and the ride was 
not without its enjoyment, for the scenery was 
magnificent. From the camp the road lay through 
Kavadar, the broad, swiftly-running Vardar River 
being on their right. At Kavadar they had to cross 
the unfordable river Tcherna by a long wooden 
bridge, that swayed in the wind and called forth 
a remark from Rock, as he looked down. at the black 
swirling waters beneath, that he ’d ‘ rather be crossin’ 
London Bridge on a motor-bus.’ 

They went for some distance along a rocky road, 
bounded by a rushing mountain torrent, and then 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


319 


had to cross two more precarious wooden bridges 
before they emerged on the Veles-Monastir road. 

Captain Stepanovitch stopped the car, and, point- 
ing to some tiny specks that were visible among 
the mountains both to right and left, said, ‘Gentle- 
men, these are camp-fires. We are now beyond the 
farthest French advanced post, and at any moment 
may run into parties of the enemy. These camp- 
fires may belong to scattered parties of Serbians, of 
Bulgarians, of brigands who prey on both nations, 
or even of German or Austrian cavalry. Have your 
pistols loaded, but leave me to do all the talking. 
Don’t show yourselves more than cannot be helped, 
and be ready at a moment’s notice to follow my lead 
should fighting become necessary.’ 

The British officers promised to obey, and Lieu- 
tenant Vassilis took the driver’s seat, while Vivian 
went behind, the British being thus all together. 

They proceeded for about two miles with great 
caution until right on the road in front of them a 
blazing fire was seen. In the light cast by the flames 
a number of rough-looking figures, clad in skin coats, 
some liaving hoods drawn over their heads, were seen 
standing or sitting about. A man with a long rifle 
in his hands stepped towards the car, which Captain 
Stepanovitch had stopped, and a conversation took 
place, of which naturally the British did not under- 
stand a word. 

‘A choice gang of ugly cut-throats,’ said Rock. 
‘ Puts me in mind of the bandits of the old Surrey 
Theatre dramas.’ 

‘ Hush I ’ whispered Oliver, and Lieutenant Vassilis 
looked round warningly, and whispered in French, 
‘ Caution ! ’ 


320 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


Captain Stepanovitch had walked to the fire, and 
was seen to be talking with two of the men, to one of 
whom he presently offered his cigar-case, which he 
with the rifle — after taking a cigar which he lit with 
a piece of flaming wood from the fire — calmly put 
into his pocket. 

Captain Stepanovitch and this man returned toward 
the car, the engine of which was still running free. 
The captain said something to Lieutenant Vassilis, 
who bent down and handed out a small handbag, 
which the man in the sheepskin coat at once opened. 
No sooner had he done so than Captain Stepanovitch 
whipped a revolver from his holster and fired straight 
in the man’s face. At the same time he swung him- 
self into the car, Lieutenant Vassilis threw in his 
gears, and the motor almost leapt forward. Captain 
Stepanovitch fired indiscriminately at the men round 
the fire, shouting out to Oliver and the others, 
‘ Shoot any man you see ! ’ 

The British officers cracked away with their re- 
volvers as the car, dashing into the fire, scattered it 
in all directions. Yells and shouts resounded ; then 
a regular fusillade was opened on the travellers, 
bullets zipping by or striking the car frequently. 

‘Stand up,’ cried Captain Stepanovitch, ‘and fire 
at any one on the road before us.’ 

The British officers did so, and for a mile enjoyed 
a most exciting ride. The road was rough and stony, 
and the car jolted in a very alarming manner; but 
Lieutenant Vassilis steered it most skilfully. They 
_ were fired at from many a point, but no casualties 
were suffered, though every minute Oliver expected 
a tire to be punctured. 

‘ Puts me in mind of the tales I used to read when 



Cracked away with their revolvers as the car, dashing into the fire, 
scattered it in all directions. 

u Page 320. 



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A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. S2l 

I was a boy/ said Dwyer, ‘of the Santa F6 coach 
being attacked by Ked Indians.’ 

‘Only, I fancy the roads in those tales didn’t 
contain boulders as big as a man’s head,’ said Vivian. 

After a mile had been passed the excitement died 
down, and the pace became more steady. 

‘I think the most pressing danger is now over,’ 
said Captain Stepanovitch. ‘I would offer you a 
cigar, but that scoundrel Boyovitch pocketed my case, 
though I don’t think he ’ll live long to use it.’ 

‘ Was that the amiable gentleman you shot ? ’ asked 
Vivian. 

‘ Yes, and as great a scoundrel as ever robbed in 
the Balkans, which is saying something. But I dare 
say you are curious to know what happened ; and as 
it will wile away ten minutes I will tell you. The 
man you saw me talking to, and whom I shot, is a 
notorious brigand, half Serbian, half Albanian. He 
has fought in turn for Serbia, Albania, Greece, 
Bulgaria, and probably other nations. I have the 
advantage of knowing him, though he does not know 
me. When he stopped us I whispered to Vassilis 
who he was, and put him on his guard. Boyovitch 
would not tell me for whom he was in arms ; but it 
was easy to guess from the position he has taken up 
that he is in the pay of Germany, and is fighting 
for Bulgaria, though I know he pretends to be in 
Serbian pay, in order to waylay small parties whom 
he robs and murders. I don’t suppose it matters to 
him whether they are Serbs, Bulgars, or Germans. 
I pretended to be a Bulgarian officer, and said you 
were three Austrian officers, and that we were en- 
deavouring to get into touch with the Austro-German 
army, for which we had important news. Keeping 

O.H. U 


322 


A BRUSH WITH BRIGANDS. 


my ears open while talking to him, I overheard a 
man just behind us say they were to make a sudden 
rush on the car, seize all that was in it, and cut all 
our throats. I told Boyovitch that we had a quantity 
of gold on the car, which he instantly demanded. 
Admitting to him that force was on his side and 
that we could do nothing, I came up to the car with 
him, and asked Vassilis for the bag you saw him give 
me, which as a matter of fact contained only a score 
or so packets of ammunition. While he was looking 
at the bag I saw our chance, and here we are.’ 

‘ An amiable sort of person, this Boyovitch ! ’ said 
Vivian. 

‘Unfortunately there are many such,’ said Captain 
Stepanovitch sadly. ‘The war of 1912 thoroughly 
unsettled them, and they have never returned to 
work since. They took to the mountains, and have 
lived by robbery until the present war gave them 
another chance.’ 

By the time Captain Stepanovitch had finished all 
was quiet again, and they were speeding along at a 
good rate. Oliver and his friends presently dropped 
off* to sleep, and when they awoke they found they 
were at a station from which the journey could be 
finished by rail. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 

D uring the day’s travel increasing signs of the 
retreat of the Serbians were seen. Along the 
roads bullock- wagons, horsemen, and parties on foot 
were streaming, the foot-passengers often pushing 
trucks and even perambulators laden with bundles 
of household effects. 

At Nish, which the Serbians still held, the rail 
was left, and by motor-car again, going by cross- 
country roads, the party went on to Kralievo, where 
the First Serbian Army then was. 

Oliver and his companions were presented to 
General Mishitch, who informed them that the British, 
with the guns, were with the rear-guard, where they 
had done excellent service. The British officers 
decided to go out at once to Admiral Troubridge at 
Tchurtchick, as they did not know how important 
the despatches might be which they carried. 

Captain Stepanovitch volunteered to act as guide, 
and they set out just before sunset. They found the 
Serbian troops busily throwing up earthworks, to 
resist as long as possible the Austro-German troops, 
which during the last two days had not pursued with 
much vigour, though after the fall of Belgrade there 
had been fierce and sanguinary fighting. 

Admiral Troubridge, with his handful of gunners, 
was found erecting a battery, and when the gal- 
lant sailor saw the British officers he rubbed his 


324 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 


eyes. ‘ Where on earth did you spring from ? ’ he 
asked. 

* From Salonika last, Admiral,’ answered Dwyer. 

‘ And when were you there ? ’ 

‘ We arrived yesterday morning.’ 

‘And got through here! Why, that’s news! I 
heard the Bulgarians had cut off our communications 
with the south days ago.’ 

‘ Well, thanks to Captain Stepanovitch here, we 
got through.’ 

‘ Are you just out from England ? ’ 

‘No, from France; myself and Captains Hastings 
and Drummond,’ indicating Oliver and Vivian, ‘ come 
from General Sir John French, and bear these letters, 
as well as one from General Mahon.’ 

‘You surprise me. Anyway, I’m delighted to see 
fellow-countrymen. Now I ’ll just find out what the 
letters say.’ 

Captain Stepanovitch bidding them adieu, the 
others went to the house where the Admiral had 
taken up his quarters, and he read his letters. His 
face was very grave when he had finished, and, pro- 
ceeding to the stove which burnt in the room, for 
the weather was cold, he pushed the letters in and 
watched them burn. Then he turned to the officers 
and said, ‘ The news you bring me is indeed grave. I 
am told that his Majesty’s Government cannot send 
any more men to Serbia’s assistance. I am not 
surprised, but it spells the doom of this poor nation. 
I am instructed to do what I can to cover the retreat, 
and to endeavour to join up with the French or 
British forces. But in view of the overwhelming 
forces of Austro-Germans pressing us from the north, 
and the Bulgarians from the south-east, I question 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 


325 


whether every man-jack of us won’t be killed or 
captured. I ’ve lost half iny guns, smashed by shell- 
fire or through inability to move them, and one-third 
of my men. However, never say die ; we ’ll do what 
we can.’ 

‘ And you can count upon us to help you. Admiral,’ 
said Dwyer. 

‘ Of that I am sure, and as an artillery officer you 
are more than welcome. Now tell me the news from 
the west, as that, after all, is where the decisive battle 
will have to be fought.’ 

They talked well on into the night, but next 
morning were astir by daybreak, and busy on their 
defences. The artillery had been well posted in the 
rear of the town, the Serbian troops holding 
Tchurtchick itself. While Dwyer went to the guns, 
Oliver and Vivian, with a pair of good field-glasses 
and a telescope, climbed a tall spire and looked round 
them. Their experienced eyes soon caught sight of 
small moving clumps, horsemen by their formation, 
and the occasional twinkle of scabbard or stirrup- 
iron, which the trained eye easily distinguishes from 
the steadier flash of bayonets, strengthened the 
impression. These clumps were followed by guns, 
easily recognisable by the dust they made. Within 
an hour of these being seen, shells began to fall on the 
outskirts of the town. 

‘You know, Oliver,’ said Vivian, ‘this would be 
a splendid observation-post for our guns. If we 
could only get into touch with the Admiral we 
could give him the exact position of the enemy’s 
artillery.’ 

‘That’s a clinking good idea, Vivian. You remain 
here on the spot while I go and find Dwyer. If these 


326 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 


Serbs have got any telephone gear with them the 
job ought not to present any difficulties.’ 

With paper and pencil, Vivian made a rough plan 
of the country, and noted the position the batteries 
were taking up. While he was still busy Oliver and 
Dwyer returned, and the Major was delighted with 
Vivian’s information. 

‘The Admiral has turned on a squad of men,’ he 
said, ‘ and in an hour we shall have a telephone rigged 
up from here to our guns. It is most essential that 
we hold the place for three days, I am told, so as to 
allow the civil population to clear out, and we can 
only do so by smashing up their guns and so prevent- 
ing them covering the advance of their infantry.’ 

In the time specified the telephone was finished, 
the Major had taken the range, and the British guns 
opened fire. The practice was splendid, and Oliver 
and Vivian were enabled to telephone the results as 
battery after battery of the enemy was silenced. At 
night strong parties of infantry were thrown into the 
suburbs to guard against a surprise attack, and next 
morning Oliver and Vivian were again at their post. 
The enemy guns had, however, been moved under 
cover of darkness, and were very difficult to locate. 
The Austro-German infantry having come up in large 
numbers, an attack in great force was made on the 
town. Nearer and nearer it got, the Serbians con- 
testing fiercely but unavailingly against the over- 
whelming odds. Presently the enemy forced a way 
into the town, the Serbians retiring sullenly from 
street to street. 

‘If we don’t want to fall into the hands of the 
Huns we ’d better be getting,’ said Oliver, and they 
descended from their perch. Joining in the crowd 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 


327 


below, they used their pistols freely on the enemy, 
but had to retire with the others, leaving the town in 
the hands of the enemy. The Serbians, however, 
were in no mind to allow the captors to remain in 
undisputed possession of it, and, being reinforced, 
prepared to recapture it. 

Oliver and Vivian had one or two narrow escapes 
from being shot by Serbians, who mistook them for 
enemies, and so they made their way to the British 
battery, and there helped to work the guns, while 
the Serbians made a gallant assault on the town, 
which they retook, only to be again driven out. The 
carnage was terrible ; and as night fell things quieted 
down by mutual consent, as though all were tired of 
killing. 

The third day broke wet and cold, and it was 
evident that the enemy could not be long held in 
check. Word was received that the Bulgarians had 
taken Uskub, and spies brought in news that the 
enemy had been largely reinforced. Nevertheless, a 
stubborn fight was put up on the third day, and at 
night the word was given to retire. 

The guns had to cover the retreat, and the con- 
fusion was terrible during the bitterly cold night. 
The enemy had been so severely handled that he did 
not pursue, and Krushevatz was reached. Here for 
a time the Serbians felt comparatively safe, as 
General Stepanovitch, Captain Stepanovitch’s father, 
was holding Nish with the Second Serbian Army. 
The third army had, however, been defeated by the 
Bulgarians, who were then advancing on Nish from 
the south. This alarming news was received at 
Krushevatz the day after the arrival of the Serbian 
main army, and it caused great consternation. 


328 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 


Admiral Troubridge and the British officers dis- 
cussed the situation. 

‘It’s clear Nish can be no longer held/ said the 
Admiral, ‘ and the only chance of saving any of the 
Serbian army is instant retreat on Prishtina.’ 

‘I don’t know the country, and cannot give an 
opinion,’ said Dwyer. 

‘ Well, we ’re caught between two superior forces, 
either of which could defeat us. If we could join up 
with General Stepanovitch we might do something ; 
but separately we can do nothing.’ 

The Admiral had a consultation with the Serbian 
commander, and it was arranged that the three British 
batteries should be sent to General Stepanovitch, who 
was weak in artillery. Under cover of the guns 
he was to try to retreat on Prishtina; if he could 
not succeed he was to die fighting. Lieutenant- 
Commander Kerr, R.N., was placed in command of 
the three British batteries, and with him went Oliver, 
Vivian, Dwyer, and Rock. It was a terrible journey, 
and before Nish was reached almost every one was 
dead-beat. General Stepanovitch at once prepared 
to retreat, and the guns took up position to defend 
the passage of the river. 

Fortunately there was a good supply of ammunition, 
and the guns were worked incessantly while the 
Serbians were falling back across the Morava. The 
British batteries were bombarded by every gun the 
enemy could bring to bear upon them; but though 
gun after gun was smashed, and one by one the men 
of the gun teams were killed, the other guns stuck to 
their work, and held the enemy back while the 
Serbians retired. 

At the end of the eighth day there were only six 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 


329 


guns left, and the gunners were worn almost to 
skeletons; but they had accomplished their work. 
That night word was given for the guns to follow 
the retreating army. 

‘ Thank God ! ’ said Dwyer ; ‘ I do not think I could 
have stuck another day of it.’ 

Oliver and Vivian were both too dead-beat to say 
anything ; and had it not been for the untiring efforts 
of Rock in getting food for them they could hardly 
have stood the strain. 

Commander Kerr had been the saviour of the whole 
party. Always vigilant, always calm, always hopeful, 
he had instilled them all with courage. 

In getting away the guns two stuck in the mud, 
and despite all the efforts of the little band could not 
be moved. 

‘ We shall have to strip and abandon ’em,’ said 
Dwyer; ‘but we’ll render them useless to the Huns 
before we do ; ’ and, this done, they retired with the 
four remaining guns. 

The guns were always in the rear, and constantly 
engaged with the pursuing enemy. It seemed like 
some terrible nightmare; the weather was fearful, 
snow fell heavily, and the roads were choked with 
fugitives. Every mile or so the guns would halt and 
belch out at the foe, then on again. Being in the 
rear, Oliver and Vivian were always tiding to prevent 
the fugitives from falling behind, for it was known 
that the enemy murdered without mercy great 
numbers of those who fell into his hands. 

During that terrible retreat, Rock came out in a 
new character ; he himself seemed made of iron, and 
trudged along, never complaining. Often Oliver saw 
him carrying a sturdy boy on his back, wheeling a 


330 


A TERRIBLE RETREAT. 


barrow or a perambulator, holding an almost exhausted 
man or woman on a gun-carriage, or sharing his none 
too plentiful food with a starving peasant. 

The pace was terrible, but the cry was always 
‘On! on!’ for the Bulgarians, their relentless foes, 
were straining every nerve to cut them off from 
Prishtina. Faster they had to go, and in twenty- 
six hours covered forty-four miles; then, after a 
halt of three hours, they did eighteen miles more. 
The news, too, was always bad. The enemy had 
taken both Kralievo and Krushevatz, with sixty guns 
and enormous quantities of material. 

At Prishtina a rest became imperative, and, food 
being obtainable, all halted. Part of the First Serbian 
Army was there, Admiral Troubridge with them. 
The British officers reported to him, and after a 
substantial meal they were comfortably housed, and 
enjoyed their first sound sleep for nearly three weeks. 

Next morning a bath and a change of clothes were 
obtainable, and then the Admiral requested the 
presence of Commander Kerr, Dwyer, Oliver, and 
Vivian at breakfast. 


CHAPTER XXXIX, 


ON A HOT SCENT. 



‘HE situation/ explained the Admiral, ‘ has now 


X become clear. The line of retreat of the 
Serbian Army has been settled by its defeat. It is 
now only possible to retire to Skutari, and that 
means a journey of one hundred miles over the most 
terrible mountains of Albania. How many will get 
across, or what their reception will be when they 
arrive, it is impossible to say. I shall accompany the 
King and the remains of his army; if we succeed in 
reaching the coast I shall be of use to these poor 
people ; as will you, Kerr.’ 

‘ Yes, sir.’ 

‘Now I am sending on a large number of British 
doctors, nurses, and so on, to Monastir, and I want to 
ensure their safety. You, Drummond, and you, 
Hastings, I want to go on in advance, taking certain 
letters for me to Monastir ; thence you will go on to 
General Wilson with a confidential despatch, in which 
I can now give him the information he asked for in 
his letter to me.’ 

‘We are under your orders. Admiral,’ said the 
young officers. 

‘ And you, Major Dwyer, I leave to your own choice 
to go to Monastir, or to attempt to reach Skutari 
with ua’ 

‘With your permission I will stick to the guns, 
Admiral.’ 


332 


ON A HOT SCENT. 


‘ And I shall be glad to have your co-operation.* 

Later in the morning, Oliver and Vivian were 
shaking hands with Dwyer, the Admiral, and Com- 
mander Kerr, before stepping into a car, in which 
Rock was already seated with several warm rugs. 
Adieux being said, the chauffeur, a Serbian soldier, 
started his car, and away they went. 

So tired were Oliver, Vivian, and Rock that they 
slept the best part of the day, nor had they after- 
wards any very clear idea of that journey to Monastir, 
which they reached the same night. 

There were some British there already, and Oliver 
and Vivian had but little difficulty in delivering the 
Admiral’s letters to those to whom they were ad- 
dressed. They got a lodging at a small cafe, and 
by dawn were off again on their long drive to 
Salonika, which they reached in the afternoon. 

Directly they arrived they noticed a great differ- 
ence on the place. The harbour had been greatly 
improved, new landing-places erected, sheds for the 
accommodation of stores built ; while great numbers 
of both French and British soldiers were to- be 
seen. 

Oliver and Vivian found General Wilson, and were 
closeted with him for some time, giving him what 
particulars of the Serbian retreat they had seen. 

Captain Strachan was still at Salonika, and ex- 
pressed his pleasure at again meeting Oliver and 
Vivian. He obtained them quarters, where they 
were to remain for the present, as they were told 
their services might be required at any moment. 

The following morning, Captain Strachan having 
duties to attend to, Oliver, Vivian, and Rock started 
out to have a look round Salonika. Walking along. 


ON A HOT SCENT. 


333 


they met a very smartly dressed French officer, whom 
they were passing with a friendly salute when he 
stopped suddenly, took his cigarette from his mouth, 
and exclaimed in French, ‘My young friends, the 
English prisoners ! ’ 

Oliver and Vivian looked in surprise for a moment ; 
then the former said in the same language, ‘Why, 
it’s our old acquaintance the Major, who so coolly 
suggested shooting us after we had escaped from the 
Germans ! ’ 

‘Lieutenant-Colonel Le Mercier, at your service, 
gentlemen;’ and the officer bowed most gallantly. 

‘ Our apologies for the mistake, and congratulations 
on your promotion.’ 

‘ Not another word ! ’ 

‘ And what are you doing here. Colonel ? ’ 

‘Nothing much at present; but I hope soon to get 
busy. I’ve just come from the Dardanelles. A bad 
business that ! But tell me of yourselves.’ 

‘ With pleasure, and in return we must hear your 
adventures.’ 

‘ Let us converse by all means ; ’ and, shaking hands 
all round, the Colonel continued, ‘let us drop into 
that caf6 I see, and be convivial for half-an-hour ; ’ 
and soon they were all seated round a table enjoying 
coffee and cigarettes. They had much to tell one 
another, and an hour had passed when Oliver, looking 
out into the street, noticed a man who peeped in as 
he passed, and then went on along the street. 

‘Loffel!’ he cried, and, jumping up, in a moment 
he was in the street. 

Vivian, hearing the name of the detested spy, ex- 
plained in a few words to Colonel Le Mercier, and 
ran after Oliver. 


334 


ON A HOT SCENT. 


The Colonel, a man of action, paid the score, and 
in a minute had joined his British friends. 

‘ Don’t call attention to us,’ whispered Oliver. ‘ If 
he sees and recognises us he will be on his guard, 
and will slip through our fingers once more.’ 

‘Which is he?’ asked Le Mercier. ‘The man in 
the gray felt hat ? ’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘ Leave him to me. I will put a man on his track 
who will follow him anywhere. There is a fellow of 
my regiment coming who is a Paris gamin; he 
would track a sparrow across a desert.’ He beckoned 
an alert little soldier, told him briefly what was 
required of him, and then said to the Englishmen, 
‘ Leave the matter to Pierre ; he will report to 
us at the caf4 Let us finish our smoke and our 
chat.’ 

Not feeling very confident about the result, Oliver 
assented, and soon they were back at the cafd, where 
Colonel Le Mercier asked all about the spy Loffel. 
Oliver told him briefly several of the man’s attempts 
on their lives, and so on. 

The Frenchman whistled. ‘ It is time that gentle- 
man was laid by the heels,’ he said. 

‘It is. Colonel. I think I’ll see the General and 
get a warrant for his arrest.’ 

‘ Warrant ! What for ? ’ 

‘ I think it would be necessary.’ 

‘ My dear Captain, leave it to me ; I will manage 
this affair for you. In the French service we don’t 
bother about warrants. I have authority to arrest 
any one on suspicion, and if you can prove he is the 
man you say he is — poof ! bang ! VoiUb ! there is no 
more spy, that ’s all.’ 


ON A HOT SCENT. 


335 


‘Such a method has its advantages, Colonel,’ said 
Vivian. 

‘ Of course it has. We waste no time on spies.’ 

Presently a French soldier looked in at the caf6, 
saluted the Colonel, and said, ‘Petit Pierre sent me, 
Colonel, to say he has found the house ; and, if you 
approve, I am to take you to him.’ 

‘ Come ! ’ said the Colonel to the English oflScers. 
‘ Are you armed ? ’ 

‘We have our pistols.’ 

‘ It is all we shall need.’ And away they started 
with the French soldier. They went to the centre of 
the town, and there, in a small street, they found 
Petit Pierre. 

‘ That is the house he entered, mon Colonel* he said, 
pointing to a small house at the corner of a square. 

‘ Follow me ! ’ said Le Mercier, and, crossing the 
square, they at once knocked. The door was opened 
by a surly-looking Greek. The Colonel put out his 
foot to prevent the door being closed. — ‘You have 
your bayonet, Pierre,’ he said ; ‘ let no one pass with- 
out a permit from me.’ 

They all entered, and went from room to room, in 
which they found several natives, who looked angry 
at the intrusion. 

At the top of the house were two men sitting 
at a table writing. They were made up in native 
fashion ; but Vivian was too well acquainted with 
German characteristics to be deceived. ‘You are 
Germans,’ he said in that language. ‘ What are you 
doing here ? ’ 

One man turned in his chair, whipped a revolver 
from his pocket, and, pointing it at Vivian, said 
something in Greek. 


336 


ON A HOT SCENT. 


‘We don’t speak the language/ said Oliver, who 
had been as quick as the man, who in turn found 
himself looking at the barrel of a pistol. ‘You may 
just as well own up to your nationality at once.’ 

‘We are Frenchmen/ said the other man in 
French. 

‘Not with that accent,’ replied Le Mercier coolly. 
‘ Surrender yourselves prisoners.’ 

‘ Touch us at your peril/ said the first man, tearing 
a paper which lay on the table. 

Oliver seized his wrist in a firm grip, and Vivian 
picked up some papers, whereupon the man fired his 
revolver. But Rock had been watching him with 
lynx-like eyes, and his fingers had hardly closed on 
the trigger before the old soldier had dealt him a 
blow right between the eyes with his fist which laid 
him stunned on the ground. The second man at- 
tempted to struggle, but was overpowered and bound 
hand and foot. 

The other occupants of the house came up the 
stairs, jabbering excitedly; but Colonel Le Mercier 
waved them gracefully aside. ‘ My good people,’ he 
said, ‘ it ’s no use upsetting yourselves ; there is some- 
thing here that needs investigating, and investigated 
it will be.’ 

One man, who spoke French, threatened that King 
Constantine would exact all sorts of compensation for 
such an outrage. 

‘ Possibly so, my dear sir,’ said the Colonel, lighting 
a cigarette very deliberately; ‘and if there is any 
ground for compensation you will get it. But we 
must first proceed with our little investigation ; after 
that, if we find there is no ground for compensation, 
well then, I cannot say what you will get.’ 


ON A HOT SCENT. 


337 


Petit Pierre was sent for a file of soldiers, and the 
two supposed Germans, with the other inmates, were 
marched off prisoners to the French headquarters, 
while all the papers were seized. 

The house was thoroughly searched, but no sign 
of Loffel could be found, which was a great disap- 
pointment. It was discovered, however, that the 
house had a back exit; and, as Petit Pierre was 
certain the spy had not left by the front, it was 
presumed he had gone by the back. 

Colonel Le Mercier left two men behind in 
the house, with instructions to arrest any who 
entered, and bring them on to him. ‘Now let’s go 
along and examine the papers,’ he said ; and for the 
next two hours they were busy. 

Many of the papers were in code, and a good many 
were simply plans. But there were clever brains 
at the French headquarters, and it was soon clear 
that the two men they had arrested were German 
spies, and the documents proved they were in 
Salonika for some specific reason. One of the papers 
was very puzzling. It was in a German cipher 
which, decoded, ran, ‘K. has certainly left London 
for the East. If he survives the journey he should 
not be allowed to return.’ 

‘ Now, who is K. ?’ asked Le Mercier. 

‘ I know no more than you,’ replied Oliver. 

‘Perhaps your General could help us; I dare say 
you would like to tell him what has occurred.’ 

‘ I think we had better report. I don’t know what 
he ’ll say about all this,’ replied Vivian, not without 
some dread of the British estimate of the propriety 
of their actions. 

The General listened very attentively to the tale 

o.n. V 


338 


ON A HOT SCENT. 


that was told him. ‘ We know the place is overrun 
with spies/ he said, ‘but we are powerless against 
them.’ 

‘ Leave it to us, General,’ said the French Colonel ; 
‘ perhaps we are not — er — so, shall we say, punctilious. 
But can you help us to establish the identity of this 
person who is called “ K.” ? ’ 

‘ I am afraid I , cannot. Colonel ; but I will wire 
London. Meanwhile, if this man LofFel could be caught 
it might be as well. I trust the Greek Government 
will not — er — resent your rather high-handed pro- 
ceedings.’ 

‘ With our warships in the harbour, General, 
dominating the town, I don’t think their resentment 
will trouble us very much.’ 

‘Perhaps not — perhaps not;’ and the British 
General smiled a little uneasily. — He turned to Oliver 
and Vivian. ‘You gentlemen had better remain in 
your quarters,’ he said. ‘I may want you at a 
moment’s notice. — And depend upon it, Colonel, I will 
communicate with you the minute I have any news.’ 


CHAPTER XL. 


loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 
LIVER and Vivian had been sitting silent for 



V-/ some time, each busy with his own thoughts. 
Presently Oliver spoke. ' It really is remarkable the 
way that fellow LofFel continually crosses our path.' 

*And equally as annoying the way in which he 
always manages to elude us.* 

‘ True ; I thought we had him this time.’ 

*We might have followed him up if the General 
hadn’t required us to stay in our quarters. Some- 
how our people always seem so afraid of doing 
something that might offend somebody.* 

‘I must confess our French colonel’s methods 
appeal more to me in this case; but, after all, the 
British way has its advantages.* 

Conversation again lagged, and it had grown dark 
when a spurred heel jingled, and Captain Strachan 
entered the room. ‘ Here you are,* he cried ; ‘that *s 
good ! Come at once with me to headquarters ; 
you ’re wanted.* 

‘ Hurrah ! anything for a change,* said Oliver ; ‘ I *m 
tired already of doing nothing.* 

They were soon at headquarters, and were at once 
admitted. The room was only dimly lit; and, sitting 
quite in the shadow, wearing a British ‘ warm * and a 
staff cap, was a tall man whose face could not be 
very clearly seen. ^ 

‘ Now just tell me again, so that I may have it com- 


340 loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 

plete in detail, the particulars of the arrest of those 
two spies, and describe their appearance,’ said General 
Wilson. 

Vivian did so. 

‘Now tell me how the Frei^ch managed to decode 
that message.’ 

Vivian explained, and then asked whether any 
information had been obtained as to who this 
mysterious ‘ K.’ was. 

The General gave a half -glance at the officer sitting 
in the shade, who rose to his feet and let the light 
fall full upon his face. 

‘ There ’s not much doubt that I am the unworthy 
cause of so much attention on the part of our Teutonic 
friends,’ he said; ‘and I must admire the excellent 
work their secret service does, though it ’s apt to get 
a bit embarrassing at times.’ 

Oliver and Vivian looked at the tall figure with the 
heavy drooping moustache, then sprang to their feet 
and saluted. Lord Kitchener stood before them ! 
Though neither of them had ever seen the famous 
Field-Marshal before, they at once recognised him 
from his photographs. 

‘We’ve never met before, I think,’ said Lord 
Kitchener. 

‘ No, my lord,’ replied Oliver. 

‘Ah, my tell-tale face! it’s just that that played 
into the hands of the Germans. However, we shall 
outwit them. Neither of the men you describe is the 
one who has been dogging me from — no matter 
where. It’s a fellow with green eyes and a light 
felt hat that ’s giving my staff a lot of trouble.* 

‘ That ’s Loffel, I should say,’ said Vivian. 

‘ Describe him, and tell me what you know of him.’ 


LOFFEL’s last service to the KAISEa 341 

Vivian did so. 

‘ That ’s the man/ said Lord Kitchener. ‘ Now 
General Wilson will give you authority to hunt 
round at Salonika and find this fellow. Arrest him 
wherever and whenever you see him. I observe you 
carry pistols. If he resists, don’t give him any chance 
of getting away.’ 

‘Very good, my lord.’ 

‘ I ’m staying here. Report what happens.’ 

‘ Well, of all the wonders,’ said Oliver when they 
were in the street ; ‘ who ’d have thought of ’ 

‘Hush ! no names, Noll.’ 

‘ “ K,” we ’ll say, being here ; and what is he here 
for ? ’ 

‘I shouldn’t like to ask him, and I sha’n’t care 
about facing him if we don’t get hold of Mr LofFel.’ 

‘ We ’ll do what we can. Shall we get the assistance 
of Le Mercier ? ’ 

‘No, I prefer to attempt the job off my own bat. 
We’ll take Rock; he’s a wily old snake, and a 
reliable man in a tight corner.’ 

Rock had been asleep when Oliver and Vivian had 
gone out; but the old man was very wide-awake 
when they returned, and cross at having been left. 

‘ You ain’t fit to be trusted out in this ’ere place 
after dark by yourselves,’ he said; ‘an’ if you gets 
lost, ’ere ’ave I got to find you, and the only lingo I 
can speak to the natives in is the old John Company 
language.’ 

‘ What was that. Rock ? ’ 

‘ The boot ! ’ 

‘Well, pull yourself together, and come with us. 
We’ve got a bit of business on.’ 

‘ Pull myself together ! H’m ! I like that ! ’ snorted 


342 loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 


Rock; ‘since we're captains, the airs of some 

people ! Lord ’ and he contemptuously flicked 

an imaginary fly from his right knee. 

The three set out, and flrst went straight to the 
house from which the two suspected spies had been 
arrested. Petit Pierre had made himself quite at 
home, and was taking his ease. No one had entered 
the house since he had been in charge. 

‘ A blank there ! ’ said Vivian. ‘ Let ’s have a hunt 
round ; we may And something out.’ 

Two hours had been spent thus when old Rock 
said, ‘Might I ask what we’re a-lookin’ for, or are 
we a patrollin’ picket ? ’ 

‘ ’Pon my word. Rock, I think your question well 
timed,’ said Oliver. — ‘ Vivian, I vote we seek Colonel 
Le Mercier.’ 

‘Just what I was about to propose;’ and they 
turned their steps in the direction of the colonel’s 
quarters. 

The searchlights were busy scanning the sky for 
aeroplanes, a number of which had flown across, 
dropping bombs and doing a considerable amount of 
damage. 

Colonel Le Mercier was not in his quarters, but an 
orderly informed Oliver and Vivian that he was at 
the principal searchlight station, and kindly conducted 
them there. They found the Colonel full of 
enthusiasm, and very busy. 

‘We have received a hint that there is a Zeppelin 
about, and we have a new anti-aircraft -75 that we 
are anxious to try on it,’ he explained. 

Oliver and Vivian were very much interested in 
the working of the searchlight, and followed its 
dazzling beam with curiosity. The night was a still 


loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 343 


and dark one, just suitable for a raid. There were 
several searchlights at work, and when their beams 
crossed the result was a most brilliantly lit-up patch. 
A smaller light occasionally flashed out and threw 
its beam upwards ; but whenever the Colonel tried to 
cross its rays it disappeared. 

This occurred several times, until at last the 
Colonel grew angry. ‘ Whoever is working that 
light is either purposely disobeying his instructions 
or is a fool ! ’ he exclaimed, ‘ In either case he ought 
to be punished.’ 

‘ The light seems of a different intensity too,’ said 
Vivian. 

‘ Decidedly it is, my friend.’ 

Presently a deep whirring, buzzing sound was 
distinctly heard, on which the mysterious light 
appeared at more frequent intervals, but none the 
less obstinately avoided crossing the other beams 
of light. 

‘If that noise isn’t made by the engines of a 
Zeppelin I ’m very much mistaken,’ said Oliver. ‘ It ’s 
a long time since I heard one before, but I distinctly 
remember the sound.’ 

‘I wonder if you’re right,’ cried Le Mercier 
excitedly. 

The noise grew more insistent and apparently 
circled round them. It was clearly above. The 
searchlights flashed to and fro, but were unable to 
discover the monster of the air. 

‘ Colonel,’ said Vivian, ‘ it ’s a Zeppelin right enough, 
and I have a suspicion that those mysterious lights 
are made by some traitor flashing signals to it. I ’m 
off to investigate.’ 

‘ Ma foi ! I believe you ’re right, and I ’m coming 


344 loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 

with you. — Captain Bouchet, take over the search- 
light.’ 

In another minute the three oflScers, with Rock, 
were hurrying through the streets in the direction 
from which came the mysterious light. All the while 
overhead the^ deep, ominous buzz of the motors could 
be heard getting clearer when the small light showed 
for any length of time, while the bigger searchlights 
failed to find the airship. Meanwhile the officers got 
nearer and nearer to General Wilson’s quarters. 

Suddenly, Oliver almost shouted, ‘By George! 
I Ve got it.’ 

‘Where, where,’ asked Vivian, thinking he had 
located the light. 

‘I mean the idea,’ said Oliver. ‘Haven’t you 
noticed that the sounds seem to get nearer to the 
light we are following ? ’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘The Zeppelin is obviously being guided, and is 
nearing General Wilson’s quarters. We know who’s 
there. Remember the message we found about “ K.” 
A dozen bombs from the Zeppelin, and one is sure to 
find its mark.’ 

‘ Good Lord ! of course. What shall we do ? ’ 

‘ Find the man who ’s guiding the Zepp, and shoot 
him.’ 

Le Mercier was told what Oliver and Vivian 
suspected, and he was quite of their opinion. 

The streets were crowded with curious soldiers or 
terrified natives. Oliver and Le Mercier ordered all 
the soldiers, British or French, to try to discover 
from which house the mysterious light was being 
flashed, and to let them know. 

In five minutes a hundred men were searching, and 


l5ffel’s last service to the kaiser. 345 

presently a loud cry was heard, and Rock came 
running up to Oliver. ‘ It s spotted,’ he said ; ‘ I saw 
it too.’ 

They ran down a narrow street, at the end of 
which was a high factory building. From the roof 
of this a bright light was shining almost vertically. 
A brief look at the place showed that there was a 
wall round it, the entrance being through double 
gates. 

‘ Put a guard round the place. Rock,’ said Oliver, 
‘ and stop any one who tries to pass. If resistance is 
offered, use force ; but let no one pass from any exit.’ 

‘Go ahead, captain; no one will pass me,’ said 
Rock cheerily. ‘If any Boche attempts the trick 
I ’ll make long pig of ’im before ’e can shut an eye- 
lid.’ 

Oliver, with Colonel Le Mercier and Vivian, entered 
the factory, and in a minute had found the stairs, up 
which they went. While they were ascending, three 
terrific explosions were heard, followed by the sound 
of falling glass and the screams of injured people. 

‘ The Zeppelin is dropping bombs ! ’ cried Vivian. 
‘ Hurry, Noll ! ’ 

They raced up the stairs till they reached a large 
loft. Across this they had to grope their way to an 
open trap-door, through which the faint light above 
was seen. A ladder led up to the trap-door, and they 
were just going to mount it when a man sprang from 
the shade ; and, standing at the bottom of the ladder, 
flashed a light from an electric pocket-lamp full upon 
them. Seeing the uniforms, he drew a pistol and fired 
two shots. The first missed, but at the second report 
Vivian fell to the ground. At the same moment 
Oliver, who had his pistol in his hand, fired full in 


346 loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 

the man’s face, and he dropped without a groan. 
Oliver sprang up the ladder, Le Mercier close behind 
him. They found they were on a flat roof, from the 
side of which a powerful light was being flashed. A 
man had been working this light; but, hearing the 
sound of shots, he turned round, and, seeing two 
figures rushing toward him, drew a pistol, and cried 
out in French, ‘ Who are you, and what do you want ? 
I am a French engineer oflScer.’ 

‘ Liar ! ’ replied Oliver in German, recognising the 
voice. ‘You are Otto Loflel, spy and murderer, and 
your doom is sealed ! ’ 

A flash from the spy’s pistol, and a bullet hummed 
by ! Next moment Oliver fired, and the man gave a 
cry, dropping his pistol. 

Oliver threw himself upon him, and, seizing him by 
the throat, bore him down on to the roof. Several 
soldiers, both French and English, had followed the 
officers up to the roof, and they now ran to their 
assistance. 

Oliver heard a well-known voice at his elbow, 
‘ Got ’im this time, ’ave you, sir ? ’ 

‘Is that you. Rock? Yes, I’ve got him. Here, 
take him and truss him up with your belt. Shoot 
him if he tries to escape.’ 

‘ Right-0, sir ! ’ 

‘Captain Drummond is hurt, and I must go to 
him.’ 

‘ If this blighter ’s ’urt Mr Drummond I ’ll wring 
his blinkin’ neck.’ 

Another tremendous report sounded, which shook 
the factory, and, looking round, Oliver saw the light 
still shining from the roof, its rays falling directly 
on a cupola-shaped roof, near which the bombs were 


loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 347 

falling. He at once recognised the building. It was 
General Wilson’s headquarters, and Lord Kitchener 
was there ! The meaning of the mysterious message 
was now clear. 

‘ Switch off the light, Colonel ! ’ he cried ; and Le 
Mercier, who had been busy examining it, unable to 
switch it off, turned it right over, so that its rays 
went entirely in the opposite direction. For an 
instant the roof was illuminated, and Oliver saw that 
his prisoner was indeed Loffel. 

No sooner was the light turned off than the 
throbbing of engines was heard, and, looking up, 
Oliver saw the dim outline of an enormous Zeppelin 
caught in the rays of the French and British search- 
lights. 

The moving of the light on the roof had. caused 
the Zeppelin, which had apparently been stationary, 
to move in the direction in which the rays pointed. 
The monster airship was crossing the town, and 
moving toward the harbour. It had ceased to drop 
bombs, but had turned on a searchlight, and seemed 
to be making signals. 

When the searchlights of the Allies had picked up 
the Zeppelin the guns opened on it, and the bursting 
shrapnel looked like a display of fireworks. 

‘Hark ! I hear the bark of the *75,’ said Le Mercier 
delightedly. ‘ We shall hit it, though I am afraid if 
it falls in the town it will do much damage.’ 

Oliver had been looking at the Zeppelin, and noticed 
that it had turned off its own light, and was making 
in the direction in which Le Mercier had again turned 
the light which Loffel had been using. In an instant 
an idea seized him. ‘ The Zeppelin is certainly guided 
by the direction of the light here,’ he said. ‘ If we 


348 loffel’s last service to the kaiser. 

could entice it out over the harbour the naval guns 
would take up the bombardment, and if they brought 
it down in the sea it would do no harm.* 

‘ Splendid ! ’ cried Le Mercier, ‘ leave it to me ; * 
and he began manipulating the searchlight. 

Leaving him to his task, Oliver found that Loffel 
was unable to walk, and instructed some French 
soldiers to get a stretcher, and take him, closely 
guarded, to the French headquarters. Rock went 
with them. He next found that Vivian had had a 
narrow escape, the spy’s bullet having grazed his 
head and stunned him. He had, however, recovered 
consciousness, and when he heard that Loffel was 
captured he expressed his satisfaction with a faint 
cheer. He was able to accompany Vivian to General 
Wilson’s headquarters, where they found things 
perfectly quiet. 

Lord Kitchener, though the bombs had exploded 
quite close to his quarters, was perfectly calm. He 
expressed his satisfaction at the arrest of Loffel, and 
complimented the young officers on their success, and 
insisted on Vivian being attended to by the General’s 
doctor. ‘ It was a smart idea of yours to entice the 
Zeppelin across the harbour. Captain Hastings,’ he 
said. ‘ I am sure the navy will give it a warm re- 
ception. I can distinguish the heavy boom of their 
guns, so let us go out and see what is happening.’ 

In spite of the danger, half Salonika seemed to be 
at the harbour looking out over the sea. In the air 
the Zeppelin could still be seen, turning this way 
and that, trying to evade the searchlights, while the 
firing grew heavier and heavier. It seemed to have 
been ‘winged,’ for it manceuvred rather clumsily, 
and presently, after a shell burst just under it, its 


loffel's last service to the kaiser. 349 


nose dropped, and it came down a considerable dis- 
tance, evidently badly damaged. It managed to turn 
its head landwards, and set off at full speed, the 
crowd below, of all nationalities, yelling and cheering 
wildly. French and British motors and cavalrymen 
went dashing off in the direction taken by the 
Zeppelin, determined that if it came down the crew 
should find some one to welcome them. 

* And now I think we had better return,* said Lord 
Kitchener. — * Captain Hastings, consider yourself on 
my staff, and Captain Drummond also, when he is 
well enough. See that affair of the spy through, and 
report to me the result.* 


CHAPTER XLL 


THE NAVY WAY. 


LIVER’S first thought was for Vivian, who 



said a good night’s sleep would put him all 
right. They went to their quarters, whither Rock 
had already returned. 

‘ ’Ang these people’s lingo,’ said Rock ; * why can’t 
they speak English ? ’Ere ’s a letter for you, sir.’ 

Oliver found it was a request for Vivian and him- 
self to attend on the following morning a court- 
martial on LofFel and the other spies. 

Vivian had a good night, and in the morning felt 
much better. 

Le Mercier was an early visitor. ‘ My dear young 
friends, I have good news for you,’ he said. ‘The 
Zeppelin was badly damaged, and came down on 
some marshy ground. Some of our cavalry found it 
this morning.’ 

‘ And the crew ? ’ 

‘ Bah, the crew ! Dropped into the sea, blown up 
by a bomb, suffocated in the marsh ; anything — who 
knows ? ’ and the Colonel shrugged his shoulders. 

The inquiry into the guilt of Loffel and his accom- 
plices did not last long. Colonel Le Mercier ’s testi- 
mony alone would have convicted them ; but Oliver 
and Vivian had an overwhelming mass of evidence, 
and the tribunal did not rise from their seats to con- 
sider their verdict. ‘Guilty,’ they declared at once, 
and passed the sentence ‘ to be shot at noon.’ 


THE NAVY WAY. 


351 


LofFel, evidently in pain from his wound, was 
sullenly silent during the evidence; but, when he 
heard his doom, he at first threatened that Germany 
would make reprisals if he were hurt; then offered 
to betray important secrets as the price of his life ; 
and finally, turning to Vivian, burst into tears, and 
threw himself upon his mercy. ‘ I served you faith- 
fully and well,’ he said. 'I could have got you 
imprisoned many times in Berlin before the war, 
and it was I who effected your liberty after you were 
condemned to death. Use your influence with Lord 
Kitchener to save me.’ 

‘ So you know Lord Kitchener is here ? ’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Well, I have no influence with him, and if I had 
I would not raise a finger to save you. You speak 
falsely when you say you saved Captain Hastings 
and me from death ; it was just a freak of your mad 
Kaiser. Since then you have deliberately tried to 
hurl to a horrible death a whole train-load of soldiers 
who hadn’t fired a shot, you have tried to poison me 
and my friends, you have attempted to shoot Captain 
Hastings, and last night you would have murdered 
a hundred women and children quite calmly in order 
to effect your end. You are a choice example of your 
boasted German Kultur ; you are a liar, a thief, and 
a murderer, and richly deserve your doom. Shooting 
is too good for you, and the only recommendation I 
make on your behalf is that hanging be substituted 
for shooting.’ With these scathing words, Vivian 
turned his back upon the wretched man, who, cursing 
both him and Oliver vehemently, was led away. 

They were leaving the barracks when Rock asked, 
‘ Where are you goin’ now, gentlemen ? * 


352 


THE NAVY WAY. 


‘ To our quarters.’ 

‘ Well, excuse me, I ’ll just stop an’ see the last o’ 
this ’ere Mr Loffel. I thought in my own mind ’e was 
done in when ’e ’opped off the train, an’ I don’t much 
like ’is turnin’ up ’ere agen. I mean to see that these 
’ere Frenchies make a good job of it this time, an’ if 
they don’t, well, I fancy I can ’andle a rifle.’ 

When Oliver and Vivian reached their quarters 
they found a letter awaiting them, bidding them 
report at once at General Wilson’s quarters. Arrived 
there, they were informed that Lord Kitchener was 
leaving Salonika that night, and that they were 
to accompany him. They returned to their own 
quarters, and were busy packing when old Rock 
returned. 

‘ That ’s a good job done,’ he said. 

‘ Is Loffel shot ? ’ asked both oflScers at once. 

* Dead as a door-nail. Them Frenchies don’t mess 
about on a job like this. They trotted the men out, 
an’ didn’t waste no time sortin’ an’ shufflin’ rifles 
same as we do. Each man loaded, an’ when the 
Boches were stuck up agin’ a wall they just let rip 
an’ riddled ’em. I made quite sure as Loffel was 
dead this time, as we don’t want ’im turnin’ up any 
more.’ 

‘ Did he die game, Rock ? ’ 

‘ Oh, middlin’. ’E looked pretty pasty-faced, an’ 
died like the sullen dog ’e was, as likewise did the 
others.’ 

‘Well, it’s so many Boches less, and dangerous 
ones at that,’ said Vivian, and the matter dropped. 

According to their instructions, they reported at 
General Wilson’s quarters that night, with their 
luggage. An hour later, in a closed carriage, they 


THE NAVY WAY. 


S53 


went down to the harbour, and in half-an-hour were 
on board a small cruiser. They at once put out to sea 
for a destination unknown to them. Amongst Lord 
Kitchener’s personal staff were some very nice people, 
and Oliver and Vivian were soon quite at home. 
The weather was rather rough, but still the voyage 
was enjoyable. 

Next morning, while some of the military officers 
were on deck, chatting with the naval officers, a 
warning cry came from the lookout man, ‘ Periscope 
on the port bow, sir ! ’ A whistle rang out, and with 
a celerity which drew forth the admiration of the 
military officers, the tars raced to their quarters, the 
loaded guns being ready to be fired in an instant. 

‘ ’Ware torpedo ! ’ shouted the lookout man, and in- 
stantly the course of the cruiser was altered. Oliver 
and Vivian, fascinated spectators of the scene, saw 
the circular white splash on the water made by the 
torpedo as it left the tube of the submarine, and the 
foamy ribbon that denoted its track ; something 
passed close by their bows, missing them quite nar- 
rowly, and that only because the vessel’s course had 
been altered. 

‘ Hard a starboard ! Ram her ! ’ came the curt 
command; and Lord Kitchener, who had come on 
deck smoking a cigarette, calmly walked towards the 
bow of the vessel. The cruiser swung round and 
went towards the periscope at full speed. At the 
same moment a double report, which shook the 
cruiser, rang out, and two shells, beautifully placed, 
fell close to the periscope, throwing up two huge 
columps of water as they burst. 

‘’Ware torpedo!’ again came the warning, and the 
water was marked by a second ripple. Again the 

O.H. w 


854 


THE NAVY WAY. 


cruiser’s course was altered ; then bang ! bang ! went 
her guns. She raced forward at top speed, there was 
a bumping, jarring grind, a muffled sound was heard 
from under the water, and the periscope disappeared. 

‘ Hooray ! ’ shouted a young midshipman ; ‘ that ’s 
another that will never see the old Kiel Canal 
again.’ 

The cruiser stopped her engines, and made a circle 
round the spot where the periscope had been seen. 
Bubbles of froth and a quantity of black oil appeared 
on the surface. 

‘Sure sign !’ said a naval lieutenant, ‘Davy Jones’s 
locker this time ! ’ 

‘ It was an enemy submarine, I suppose,’ ventured 
Oliver. 

‘Bet your life, my boy; a Deutscher. We’ve 
known there were several about, and our fellows 
have bagged one already. This is No. 2. Seeing 
whom we’ve got on board, we expected to run 
against something, and had both eyes open,’ and he 
winked expressively in the direction of Lord 
Kitchener. 

‘ It was a near thing, though, wasn’t it ? * 

‘Oh, a miss is as good as twenty miles at this 
game,’ and the lieutenant strolled carelessly away. 

‘An’ what are we messin’ about for now,’ asked 
Private Rock, who had also been a witness of the 
scene. 

‘To pick up any survivors, I suppose,* replied 
Oliver. 

‘ Bah ! what putrid rot ; let ’em drown, I says, 
same as they did the women and kids in the 
Lusitania. Why should we trouble about savin’ 
the blighters ? ’ 


THE NAVY WAY. 


855 


‘ It ’s a way they Ve got in the navy, Rock,’ replied 
Vivian. 

* And a jolly silly way too ; what ’s sauce for the 
goose is sauce for the gander. If we wasn’t so 
blamed well fond of our enemies they wouldn’t take 
so many liberties with us,’ and Rock spat savagely 
into the sea. 

There did not happen to be any survivors to 
rescue, and the cruiser went on her way. Presently 
a British Dreadnought joined them, and together 
they made Mudros, where anchor was dropped. 
There Lord Kitchener, with some of his personal 
staff, landed, and was met by a small crowd of officers 
in high command. Oliver and Vivian were left 
behind; and, looking over the vessel’s side at the 
beach where the party landed, made many conjectures 
as to what had brought Lord Kitchener out from 
England. 

‘It’s pretty clear to me,’ said Oliver, ‘that the 
business is connected with the Balkan and Gallipoli 
affairs, and that it is of the highest importance is 
clear from the fact that Germany is very keen on 
preventing him from carrying out his mission.’ 

‘It’s marvellous the way the Huns get to know 
everything that is going on; it shows that we are 
far too lenient at home in allowing Germans still to 
be at large, or else there are traitors amongst our 
own people ! ’ 

‘ A little of each perhaps,’ said Oliver. ‘ Anyway, 
this trip of K. of K. gives us a pleasant change, and 
I shouldn’t be surprised if we went on to Gallipoli. 
I hope we do, for I should much like to see a place 
we ’ve all heard so much about.’ 

Oliver’s wish was fated to be gratified, for later 


356 


THE NAVY WAY. 


in the afternoon Lord Kitchener and a crowd of 
Generals came aboard again, and at full speed they 
set out for the Gallipoli Peninsula. 

It was a bright moonlit night when they dropped 
anchor in Anzac Cove and landed on the beach. The 
sands shone white in the moonlight, and the scrub- 
covered heights towered up in the background, 
looking so steep that Oliver and Vivian marvelled 
how the gallant Australians and New Zealanders 
ever ‘made good’ in face of the furious fire that 
met them on their landing. The foreshore was 
crowded with stores of all descriptions, and men 
temporarily relieved from the trenches crowded into 
extemporised huts and dugouts under the cliff. The 
roar of great guns and the rattle of musketry was 
incessant, and occasionally the scream of a shell over- 
head proved how close the Turks still were. The 
night was passed in shelter under the cliff, and with 
the first dawn of day the tour of inspection was 
begun. 

There was a gi-oup of famous men with Lord 
Kitchener: General Sir Charles Monro, the hero of 
many an Indian Frontier fight, General Sir William 
Birdwood, a dashing cavalry officer, who had carried 
a wound for weeks, and never said a word about it, 
and many another of lesser rank whose name will 
go down to posterity as a hero of the Dardanelles 
campaign. They visited the scene of the Krithia 
battle, where the New Zealanders had covered them- 
selves with glory, the Lone Pine trenches, and Quinn’s 
Post, named after the gallant Major Quinn of the 
15th Australian Infantry, where the fire-trenches, 
mere ledges on the edge of a precipice, were only 
twenty yards from the enemy. They went to Dead 


THE NAVY WAY. 


357 


Man’s Eidge, where the Australian Light Horse 
charged the Turkish trenches, and not a solitary 
man returned ; Gabu Tepe, the hill which the New 
Zealanders and Australians carried at such a deadly 
cost, and afterwards held so heroically — just a semi- 
circular position at the top of the cliff, where often 
over one thousand shells fell in an hour ; and, lastly, 
Suvla Bay, where the British so narrowly missed 
a crowning victory, the place where Briton and 
Australian had penetrated so far that they could 
see across the Dardanelles, and then had to retire 
because again, as at Balaclava, some one in high 
command had blundered ! 

They saw Beach B, where Yorkshires and Man- 
chesters had made their gallant landing ; they saw 
the almost perpendicular rocks which these heroes 
had scaled ; they saw the place where Northumber- 
land and Lancashire Fusiliers had raced to be first 
at the foe ; Beach C, where through the mistake of 
a general officer, the Irish Brigade — Munster, Irish, 
and Dublin Fusiliers — had been compelled to march 
four miles under a heavy fire before they got into 
action ; Chocolate Hill, in the capture of which 
Lincolns and Borderers did such magnificent service, 
and Chunuk Bair, splendidly carried by the men of 
Wales and Gloucestershire. 

Nothing escaped Lord Kitchener’s scrutiny, and it 
was seen that he closely questioned the Generals 
with him. 

By night-time the whole of the British front had 
been visited, and a council of war was held far into 
the night. 

In the early morning Lord Kitchener took his 
departure. He bade farewell to Oliver and Vivian. 


358 


THE NAVY WAY. 


‘ You will for the present remain with Sir William 
Bird wood/ he said. ‘I shall not forget the ser- 
vice you have rendered me; be equally useful to 
General Birdwood, and you will not find me un- 
grateful.* 


CHAPTER XLII. 


THE END OF A GREAT ADVENTURE. 

O LIVER and Vivian were soon at home in their 
new surroundings. Used to* the discomforts 
of France, they easily settled down in the peninsula. 
The fact that one was practically always under fire 
was somewhat uncomfortable, but even that they 
got used to. The feeling of being hemmed in was 
rather trying — it was just a narrow strip of land 
which the British occupied, all advance barred by 
the enemy, all retreat stopped by the sea. 

Soon after they arrived, the Turkish artillery 
fire increased very materially, while the quality 
much improved, this being due to the opening by 
Germany of the railway route through Serbia, along 
which they poured munitions. 

Still, as Rock observed, the food was good and 
plentiful; the duties, at least so far as they were 
concerned, light ; and the weather warm. What 
more could a soldier want ? 

This last advantage was very shortly lost, for a 
terrible gale of rain and snow broke with great 
violence over the peninsula. For twelve hours it 
simply poured, and every one was soaked to the skin. 
Vivian had been sent to Mudros the day before, but 
Oliver was in the trenches when the storm com- 
menced. The rain flooded the trenches and dugouts, 
the former becoming simply rushing torrents which 
the men were obliged to evacuate. The Turks had 


360 


THE END OF A GREAT ADVENTURE. 


to leave their trenches too, and for a time a hot fire 
upon each other was maintained. But presently the 
weather conditions were such that all parties had 
to think rather of preserving their own lives than 
of taking anybody else’s. Dead Turks were swirled 
down the gullies into the British lines, and for a 
time the British deserted their trenches. The rain 
was followed by a piercing north wind and a biting 
frost which froze the water round the men’s feet as 
they stood in the trenches. 

Oliver and Rock worked like slaves all night, con- 
veying rum and warm soup to the men thus situated, 
and saved many lives. As it was, one corps in two 
nights lost over two hundred men from frost and 
exposure. Thousands of men fell sick ; and, on 
returning from Mudros, Vivian — with Oliver and 
Rock — was attached to the medical department, and 
worked day and night in assisting to get away from 
the trenches and on board the transports the 
thousands of incapacitated men. 

On the fourth day the sun shone and the weather 
grew mild and genial again; but the mischief had 
already been done, and the last straw in the sufferings 
of the army of Gallipoli had been borne. 

It was on the first fine day after the storm that 
General Birdwood, to whom the young officers had 
grown quite attached, sent for them and addressed 
them confidentially. ‘Before Lord Kitchener left he 
recommended you both to me, and my personal obser- 
vation convinces me that I can trust you implicitly. 
When Lord Kitchener was here he discussed the posi- 
tion and the possibilities ; and all who were present 
with him agreed with his views of the matter. These 
views have been placed before his Majesty’s Govern- 


THE END OF A GREAT ADVENTURE. 


361 


menfc, and after consideration have been accepted and 
confirmed to me by telegraph. In short, it has been 
decided to evacuate the peninsula.’ 

Oliver and Vivian looked the surprise they could not 
express, and Sir William Bird wood continued : ‘ The 
whole campaign, as carried out, has been a great mis- 
take. There were possibilities, and we have held up a 
large force of Turks who could have done an enormous 
amount of damage in other spheres ; but now there 
are circumstances, which I cannot tell you, that render 
immediate evacuation imperative. It will be one of 
the greatest and most difficult undertakings of the 
war. If we succeed it will be a triumph of military 
organisation ; if we fail it may easily turn out to be 
the crowning calamity of the war. Needless to say, 
the greatest secrecy will have to be observed. Not a 
regimental officer or a man will know what is going 
to happen until he is actually on the beach to embark. 
Did the enemy suspect our intention, probably not 
a quarter of our force would leave the peninsula alive. 
It is in this work of secret organisation for departure 
that I want your services. Lord Kitchener has 
spoken in high terms of your tact and discretion, 
and you will give me your word of honour that 
you will not breathe to a living soul what I have 
told you.’ 

Oliver and Vivian at once did so, and then details 
of the great undertaking were entered into, and the 
work commenced. Without any ostentation, and 
without any of the subordinates employed knowing 
what the reason was, all acting under the direction 
of a few staff ofiicers in the confidence of the high 
command, the winter stores and miscellaneous articles 
were concentrated on the shore and embarked under 


362 


THE END OF A GREAT ADVENTURE. 


cover of darkness. Next the bulk of the ammunition 
and food was shipped, and then drafts of men were 
marched down from the trenches during three nights, 
and quietly transferred to the transports, while not a 
whisper of what was going on escaped to the enemy. 
Eighty thousand Turks were entrenched before the 
British lines, and the whole army was drawn off 
under their very noses, and they never suspected 
what was going on. 

As the vast task neared its completion, the excite- 
ment of those engaged in it grew ; it was a gigantic 
game of bluff, in which the stake was men’s lives. 
Did the enemy guess how few were the men left, a 
determined attack with the overwhelming odds they 
could throw into the scale would result in the death 
or capture of every man and the loss of every gun. 
So that, when on the last night but one they began 
to move the heavy guns and to withdraw all but the 
men holding the trenches, excitement ran very high. 
Still, fortune, which had so often been against them, 
stood the British in good stead, and the work went 
on without a hitch. 

Then came the last day. In order to divert the 
enemy’s attention, a vigorous attack was opened at 
Krithia, and, with the help of fire from the warships, 
trenches were taken and held that niorht afjainst 
counter-attack. Then at about half-past three a 
huge mine was exploded near Russell’s Top ; and while 
the Turks momentarily expected an attack, the last 
troops were embarking, while the enemy was blazing 
furiously at the empty trenches. 

The evacuation was a triumph of organisation ; and 
as Oliver and Vivian, with the last of the soldiers, 
left the trenches, they could not resist laughing at 


THE END OF A GREAT ADVENTURE. 


363 


the way the Turk had been fooled. Bonfires were 
burning in the trenches, a gramophone was playing 
‘The Turkish Patrol,’ and the enemy was blazing 
away at — nothing. 

The few oflScers who were left behind were going 
to Krithia. It was not without a feeling of regret that 
they saw the last boatloads of men and guns leave 
the shore, that strand which they had won with such 
determined gallantry, which they had held at the 
price of thousands of lives, and which they gave up, 
regretfully and sullenly, because of the blunders of 
high officials and under direct orders from home. 

Next day, when the Turk found out how he had 
been fooled, he was exceedingly angry, and showed 
his resentment by a furious attack on Krithia, which 
it was publicly given out by the British would be held 
at any cost. The attack was beaten off, as were 
several others. Then followed a day or two of com- 
parative peace, and Christmas Day passed with many 
a festivity. The Turks being again lulled, French 
and British prepared to evacuate Krithia. The same 
steps were taken as at Suvla, and all went well, 
except that the Turks suspected the move. 

One afternoon Oliver had been sent up to the 
advanced trenches with a message to the officer in 
command there regarding the evacuation. There was 
a very heavy bombardment going on, and the officer 
said he was afraid they would have great difficulty 
in getting away. Even while they were talking the 
bombardment ceased, and the Turks sprang from 
their trenches to attack. The men belonging to the 
Stafibrds jumped on to the fire-step, and rifles and 
machine-guns got to work. For an hour a fierce fight 
was waged, the Turks attacking with much fury ; but 


364 THE END OF A GREAT ADVENTURE. 

at last they were driven off, though the attack cost 
the British one hundred casualties. 

Two nights later a little group of officers and men 
were standing in pitch darkness by a huge mountain- 
like heap of stores and ammunition, amongst which 
were seventeen worn-out guns. 

‘ Is all ready ? ’ whispered Oliver, one of the group. 

‘ All ready,’ replied an Engineer officer. 

‘ Then wait for the signal from the beach.’ 

Presently a red light was flashed to and fro three 
times. 

‘ Come ! ’ said Oliver, and the party moved toward 
the beach, where a very high sea was running. 

It was almost daylight, for the rough sea had 
greatly impeded the embarkation. At last the little 
party reached the beach, where a launch, in which 
were several military and naval officers of high rank, 
was anchored. Oliver reported ‘ all ready.’ 

‘ Fire the fuse, then,’ said a calm voice. 

This was done, and the party of officers embarked, 
the launch at once putting out to sea. 

Before they reached the transport destined to take 
them, a tremendous explosion of ten tons of explosive 
material seemed to shake the very earth, and caused 
a great wave to roll out from the beach. 

‘ That sounds the knell of the many wild ambitions 
in the Dardanelles,’ said Oliver sadly. 

^ And is a salute over the graves of the thousands 
of gallant fellows whose bones lie in that accursed 
peninsula,’ and Vivian reverently raised his cap. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 

T he evacuation of the Dardanelles was already a 
matter of history. Many weeks had elapsed, 
during which time Oliver, Vivian, and Rock had been 
at Salonika. Work there had been easy, and all were 
in the pink of condition. The news from home had 
been good. Colonel Hastings had been moved to 
England, and after a very narrow escape from death 
was well on the way to recovery. From the regiment 
came cheery news. Major Lloyd was now Lieutenant- 
Colonel, and was still in command; Harris, quite 
recovered, and a captain, had returned to duty ; and 
Skinner, also a captain, was coming out with the next 
draft. The regiment was still in ‘ rest ’ billets ; and, 
having been made up to full strength, was anxious to 
get at the Boche again. Lord Rossville had rejoined 
as a private, and, despite having been recommended for 
a commission, remained a private, but in possession of 
a D.C.M. The Russians had given the Turks some 
very hard knocks, and had captured Erzeroum ; but the 
Turks in turn had bottled up a British force in Meso- 
potamia, and, as Rock put it, ' honours were easy.’ 

The Allies had greatly strengthened themselves at 
Salonika ; and, though they had been obliged to retire 
from their advanced positions at Strumnitza and 
Lake Doiran, held a strongly fortified line from the 
mouth of the Vardar to the Gulf of Orfano. 

Serbia no longer existed as a nation ; the remnants 


366 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


of the army had reached Durazzo, whence they had 
been transferred to Corfu, and were being nursed 
back to health and fighting strength. Admiral Trou- 
bridge had got safely through, as also had Major 
Dwyer and Commander Kerr. The British guns had 
covered the retreat of the army from Prishtina. On 
the very first day, two became hopelessly embedded 
in the mud, and, in spite of the efforts of two hundred 
and fifty men and all the available oxen, had to be 
left behind. Next, one of the two remaining guns 
fell through a bridge into the river and was lost, and 
at the end of the retreat the last nine members of the 
gun crew found themselves alone and unable to 
move the only gun left. They stripped and buried 
it; then, after sixty-seven days* incessant fighting, 
followed the retreating Serbians, nine men only out 
of the one hundred and three who had composed the 
crews at the beginning of the action at Belgrade. 

‘And some day,* said Major Dwyer, as he related 
his adventures to Oliver and Vivian, ‘if I’m here 
when we advance again, I mean to dig that gun up 
and serve out medicine with it to the Huns and those 
scoundrels of Bulgars.* 

One of the little excitements of Salonika was to go 
out with patrols in the hope of meeting a similar 
patrol of Germans, and having a brush with them. 
The British sought these encounters from a mere love 
of sport ; and the Germans, when found, would, if in 
numbers of four or five to one, sometimes show fight ; 
more often, though, they galloped off, their idea of 
‘ sport * being of a vastly different nature from that 
of the British. 

There was a post out south of Lake Doiran where 
Oliver and Vivian sometimes went in order to enjoy 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


867 


a gallop and the excitement of a hunt for enemy 
patrols. Rock had employed his spare time at 
Salonika in learning how to drive a motor-car, and 
used to drive his masters about. 

One Sunday Rock drove Oliver and Vivian out; 
and, after a good breakfast with the officer in com- 
mand of the outlying picket, the two friends borrowed 
a couple of mounts, and set off with a troop of 
cavalry. 

‘By Jove, young Noll, it’s delightful to feel horse- 
flesh between one’s knees, and to hear the jingle of a 
bit and the clink of a stirrup-iron again.* 

‘ I believe you ’re a cavalry man at heart, Vivian ! ’ 
said Oliver. ‘ You ’ll have to transfer.’ 

‘ No, I like the infantry service best ; but I love a 
good horse for all that.’ 

‘ So does old Rock,’ laughed Oliver. 

‘By the way, you never told me that yarn of 
Rock’s about his riding.’ 

‘ Didn’t I ? No, I remember you came in just as he 
was finishing.’ And Oliver told the story. 

Vivian laughed heartily, and they settled down to 
enjoy the ride. They went along a valley that 
gradually broadened as it stretched towards the Gulf 
of Orfano. To the left, between two open and beauti- 
ful low-lying tracts, rose a number of irregular green 
hills, and it was in this country that the Germans 
were generally met with. Here the patrol was split 
up, the ‘ point ’ making good each hilltop and explor- 
ing each gully as they advanced. It was exciting and 
interesting work, and Oliver and Vivian thoroughly 
enjoyed it. Presently one of the advance guard held 
up his arm warningly for the rest to halt ; then 
lowered his open palm several times towards the 


368 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


ground. This was the signal to dismount, and the 
troop was out of the saddle in a minute. The advance 
guard came back and reported that he had seen the 
lance-points of two mounted men just below the next 
rise. In a minute Oliver, Vivian, and several men 
were going forward almost on hands and knees ; and, 
reaching the crest, they saw with their glasses two 
mounted men, clearly Uhlans. These were followed, 
and were seen to enter a small wood, where it was 
soon discovered that some two hundred men at least 
were off-saddled. The scouts retired, and the com- 
mander of the troop discussed the possibilities of the 
situation. 

‘ Twenty-five of us to two hundred ! Tough odds ! * 
he muttered. 

‘Yes,’ said Vivian; ‘but still we ought not to let 
them get off scot-free.’ 

‘ I ’ve got an idea,’ said the troop commander. ‘ We 
have a Lewis gun at the main picket. A couple of 
troopers could gallop there and back in an hour, one 
with the gun and another with a dozen belts of 
ammunition.’ 

‘ Splendid idea ! ’ said Vivian ; and away went two 
men. 

While they were away the whole of the dispositions 
were made, and a plan of Oliver’s was adopted. 

‘Mind,’ said the troop commander, ‘it’s a jolly 
dangerous device, and you do it on your own 
responsibility.’ 

‘ That ’s all right,’ said Oliver. 

A close watch was kept on the Uhlans, and they 
were still in the wood when the troopers returned 
with the gun. This was placed in a little grove of 
trees, the troop mounted and placed in position ; then 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


369 


Oliver, smoking a cigarette and looking as if he 
did not suspect there was a German within miles, 
rode straight off toward the wood. Vivian was 
very uneasy, as he knew the danger Oliver was 
running. 

When close to the wood, Oliver drew rein as though 
he had suddenly seen the enemy, whom he knew 
would be watching him. Then, turning his horse, he 
ducked down and started off at a gallop, a dozen 
bullets flying after him. He made straight for the 
little grove of trees, a hundred yelling Uhlans after 
him. They were well abreast of the grove when, 
hr-r-r-r rattled the Lewis gun, and men and horses 
went down. Other Uhlans were coming from the 
wood, and the machine-gun rattled out till all the 
belts were exhausted. Then, with a wild cheer, 
sword in hand, the British troopers, led by their 
officers, were amongst the Germans, and they smote 
until their arms ached. For two miles they pursued 
the terrified Uhlans, until the bugle rang out the 
‘retire,’ and reluctantly the troopers reined in their 
blown horses. 

Fully half the Germans were on the ground, while 
the British had only three casualties. 

‘That’ll give the Boches a lesson in cavalry 
manoeuvres,’ said Oliver gaily. ‘ I ’m afraid they ’ve 
got a bit swollen-headed again lately.’ 

‘We’d better be getting back,’ said the troop 
commander ; ‘ these fellows generally move in hordes, 
and I don’t want to spoil a good morning’s work by 
running foolish risks.’ 

Accordingly they returned to their post, where 
they off-saddled, well satisfied with their morning’s 
work. 


O.H. 


X 


370 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


Old Rock was very wroth to think he hadn’t been 
in the * scrap.’ ‘ I ain’t seen a ’Un for so long I shall 
forget what their square ’eads look like,’ he said. 
‘It’s time we was back in France.’ 

The three men who had been wounded were given 
first aid, but their condition was such that it demanded 
immediate surgical assistance, and it was decided to 
run them down to Salonika at once in the car which 
had brought Oliver and Vivian out. Rock could 
have driven them, but it was thought better to send 
a corporal who had been a chauffeur before he joined, 
and who had the advantage of being a Red Cross 
man into the bargain. Rock not being exactly the 
sort of driver to whom to trust wounded soldiers. 
The corporal was to bring the car back for the 
officers, and Rock would drive them to head- 
quarters. 

But long before the car got back an alarm was 
raised that a big body of Germans, evidently enraged 
at the severe lesson they had received in the morning, 
were advancing to attack the picket. Skirmishers 
went out to get in touch and hold them in check 
until the main picket had retired. Oliver and Vivian 
were accommodated with mounts, when suddenly they 
thought of Rock. 

‘ What are we going to do with him ? ’ asked Vivian. 
‘ He ’ll have to ride back to Salonika.’ 

There was a third horse, and Rock was told he 
would have to ride it. 

‘Not if I knows it,’ he said, ‘Ugh! I can’t bear 
the very smell of the beasts.’ 

‘ Don’t be silly, Rock 1 We must be off at once ; 
it ’s impossible to do the journey on foot.’ 

‘ Then I ’ll stop 'ere an’ fight it out Leave me a 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


371 


rifle an’ a ’undred rounds, an’ rest assured as Dick 
Rock won’t go out alone. A man ’s got to die some 
day, an’ if my time ’s up I ’m ready.’ 

‘Nonsense, man! Up you get; we’ve no time to 
waste.’ 

By that time the troopers were retiring, and it was 
clear there was not a minute to lose. 

Rock, however, resolutely refused to trust his 
neck on a horse, and even when commanded to do so 
he refused. 

‘If you ordered me to jump into a river I’d obey 
you,’ he said ; ‘ but if you ordered me to jump over a 
tree I couldn’t do it. Same as you tell me to ride ; if 
I could I would, but I can’t, an’ there ’s an end of it. 
An’ now, gentlemen, shake ’ands. Old Dick Rock 
’as got ’is faults, but I ’ve — I 've got to like you, an’, 
’ang it, I ain’t ashamed to own it,’ and he held out a 
horny hand. 

Both Oliver and Vivian shook the old soldier’s 
hand warmly, and then quietly led the horses away, 
and returned with three rifles and some ammunition, 
which they proceeded to serve out. 

‘ What ’s three rifles for ? ’ asked Rock. 

‘ There are three of us,’ said Vivian. 

‘ But you ’re goin’ ? ’ 

‘No, we ’re not.’ 

‘ But you ain’t goin’ to chuck away your lives. I 
won’t have that. You ’re young, an’ you ’re — you ’re 
gentlemen, an’ ’ 

‘Precisely, Rock,’ said Oliver; ‘we’re officers and 
we’re gentlemen, and — we’re comrades. We’ve 
stood together in many a tight corner, and we’re 
going to stand together in one more.’ 

‘ Yes,’ said Vivian, ‘ we all escape or we all stay.’ 


372 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


* D’ ye mean it, gentlemen ? ’ asked Rock, his voice 
a little husky. 

‘ Decidedly.’ 

Rock was silent a moment ; then he said, ‘ Gawd 
bless you, Mr Oliver ! Gawd bless you, Mr Vivian ! 
Excuse an old soldier takin’ a liberty, but you ’re just 
two boys to me. I ’d a’ died for either of you in a 
minute, for you’re soldiers an’ ye’ve treated me as 
such ; but I ’ll do more than die for you, I ’ll get on a 
’orse for you.’ 

‘ You will ? ’ 

‘I will.’ 

‘ Bully for you. Rock ! ’ said Oliver. ‘ It ’s as easy 
as sitting in an armchair, and we ’ll soon be out of 
danger.’ 

The noise of firing was heard, and Oliver soon had 
the three horses ready. He chose the quietest-looking 
beast for Rock, and, while Vivian held his head, 
assisted the old soldier into the saddle. He adjusted 
the stirrups, and saw that Cheery sat well down. 

*Now push your feet home in the stirrups,’ he said, 

‘ keep your heels down, and sit back. Just feel the 
horse’s mouth with the reins, and you ’ll be all right.’ 

These preliminaries being settled, Oliver and Vivian 
mounted, and the three set off at a walk, Rock in the 
middle. ^ 

‘ Feel comfortable ? ’ asked Vivian. 

‘ So so,’ replied Rock. 

‘ Then I think we ’d better try a trot ; the Bodies 
are getting uncomfortably near. Just give the horse 
a kick.’ 

Rock did so, and the horse, making a sudden jump 
forward, almost unseated him. 

‘ Whoa back !’ cried Rock, and jerked at the horse’s 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


373 


mouth. The animal threw up its head and stopped 
so suddenly that another accident almost happened. 
The situation was getting desperate, and^Vivian took 
hold of Kock’s right rein. 

‘ Keep him in the saddle, Oliver,’ he said ; and the 
three in line went off at a smart trot, Oliver holding 
Rock’s left arm. 

Bump, bump ; bumpetty bump ! 

‘Oh lor’,’ groaned Rock, ‘my blessed ’ead’ll be 
jolted oflf.’ 

‘ Stick to it,’ cried Vivian ; ‘ bear on your stirrups, 
and rise with the action of the horse.’ 

‘ I ca — can’t,’ jerked Rock, and, bumpetty bump, he 
went until suddenly he lost his right stirrup, and 
lurched over against Vivian, who saved him from 
falling. 

Bumpetty bump, bumpetty bump, they went, Rock 
complaining bitterly, until, raising his knees, he lost 
both stirrups, and, hanging on wildly by the reins, 
made his mount rear badly. 

‘Drop the reins altogether,’ said Vivian. ‘Shove 
your feet home in the stirrups, and hold on by the 
front of the saddle. Captain Hastings and I will 
guide the horse.’ In this way they covered a couple 
of miles, until Rock declared he could go no farther. 

‘Leave me,’ he cried; ‘I’d sooner die than have 
my inside shaken out.’ 

‘You’ll be all right,’ said Oliver; ‘ you ’re getting 
on fine. A mile or two more and we shall be in 
safety.’ 

A bullet hummed overhead, and several pursuing 
Germans were seen. 

‘Walk on gently, Rock,’ said Oliver, and he and 
Vivian dismounted, took their rifles from the buckets, 


374 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


and, kneeling, opened fire on the pursuing Germans. 
They checked them; then, mounting, galloped after 
Rock, who was some distance ahead. Rock's horse, 
hearing the galloping hoof -beats, pricked up its ears 
and broke into a gallop also. 

* Whoa ! ’ shouted Rock, and tugged at the bridle ; 
but the horse had got the bit between its teeth, and 
no amount of tugging had any efiect. Oliver and 
Vivian dug in their heels, and tried to overtake the 
horse before an accident happened, for Rock was 
swaying and reeling about in a most alarming manner. 
He slipped a little sideways, righted himself, and was 
thrown forward right on to the horse’s neck, where 
he clung for a moment, and then fell heavily to the 
ground. The horse shot away, and Oliver and Vivian 
just had time to pull to the right and left to escape 
trampling on their old comrade. They both dis- 
mounted. 

Rock was unconscious and bleeding from a wound 
on the head. Oliver felt his heart. ‘ He ’s alive,’ he 
said. ‘ At first I feared he ’d broken his neck.’ 

‘ He came a fearful cropper,’ muttered Vivian. 
‘Why on earth doesn’t some knowledge of riding 
form part of every soldier’s training ? ’ 

Bang-zipp, hang-zipp ! and bullets began again to 
whizz round them. 

‘Up with Rock on the saddle,’ cried Vivian; and 
Oliver and he, with some little difficulty, got the old 
man on to Oliver’s horse. 

‘ Now up and off!’ 

‘ But you ? ’ 

‘I’ll follow;’ and, ripping the rifle again from the 
bucket, he emptied the magazine at the pursuing 
Germans. Then he galloped after Oliver, and in a 


AN AFFAIR OF CAVALRY. 


375 


mile or two overtook him. Between them they got 
Bock into safety, and met the car coming out from 
Salonika. They dismounted and got into the car, 
laying Rock on the seat, and telling the driver to 
return with all speed. They undid Cheery’s tunic; 
and, thinking he was still unconscious, Vivian tried 
to pour a little brandy and water into his mouth. 
After the first few drops had gurgled down a hand 
slowly came up, took the fiask, and held it to his 
lips until it was perfectly empty. Then a drowsy 
voice said, ‘ I ’ll get even with you. Beaky Lew, you 
blighter, if it takes me five years.’ 


CHAPTER XLIV. 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 

R ock was more seriously hurt than was at first 
.. supposed. Besides being very badly shaken 
and bruised, the knock on the head gave him con- 
cussion, and for a week he was in bed. The doctor 
certified him as unfit for duty, and wanted to send 
him home ; but the old man resolutely refused to go ; 
and when, a fortnight after the skirmish, Oliver, 
Vivian, and Dwyer were ordered to rejoin their 
regiments in France, Rock accompanied them. Since 
his accident he had grown very taciturn, and Oliver 
and Vivian were somewhat concerned about him. 

The world was ringing with the news of the 
splendid defence being put up at Verdun by the 
French, and Oliver and Vivian were eager to take 
their share in the offensive which it was thought 
the British contemplated. 

Enthusiastic Germans were strong in their belief 
that a big victory for them was in sight. Hinden- 
burg and Mackensen had marched from victory to 
victory in Russia; in the west Germany had stood 
firm against the French thrusts in Artois and Cham- 
pagne ; Serbia was crushed ; and the Austrians held 
the Italians on the mountain frontier. But the 
rulers of Germany knew that their resources were 
coming to an end. The might of the Allies was 
growing. Britain was accumulating a vast army 
and a prodigious amount of munitions, grimly and 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 


377 


determinedly the Allies held on, German peace-talk 
was ignored, ‘ friendly ’ neutral interference was 
politely declined. Ultimate victory for Germany 
was not probable, her credit was declining all over 
the world, the grip of the British navy was 
strengthening. The longer the war lasted the worse 
terms would Germany get. She must score a crush- 
ing victory over France, and then claim generous 
terms ; and so the mighty attack on Verdun was 
commenced. 

In the full confidence of success, the Germans con- 
centrated thousands of guns of every calibre on the 
Verdun front ; then with four army corps commenced 
an attack unprecedented in the history of the world 
for its fierceness and its duration. So mighty was the 
blow, and carried out with such disregard of human 
life, that the French in the early days were hurled 
back, and the salient which they held was driven in. 
But the French army, though bruised, dazed, and 
bleeding, was unconquered; though forced back, it 
was unbroken, and determined to die to the last 
man before the hated German should break the 
line. When the second line of defence was reached 
it stood at bay, and a series of battles took place 
which for ferocity and expenditure of human life 
have hardly had their parallel in history. 

At the time when Oliver and Vivian returned to 
the western front all the world knew that the fate 
of France trembled in the balance, that Germany 
was staking everything to force a decisive issue, and 
that a smashing French defeat might have very 
serious consequences for the Allies. 

The Wessex Fusiliers had moved up in rear of 
Souchez, and Vivian and Oliver received a very warm 


378 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 


welcome. Skinner and Harris, both looking very fit, 
were among the first to crowd round, and there was 
no mistaking the sincerity of their pleasure at the 
meeting. 

‘Glad to see you back on your feet again,’ said 
Oliver, ‘ and awfully obliged to you, Skinner, for the 
care you took of the pater.’ 

‘Don’t mention it, Hastings. I was almost as 
anxious about him as you were, and delighted when 
he pulled round. I saw him just before I left London, 
and he was looking fairly fit. By the way, have 
you heard he ’s been made a C.B. ? ’ 

‘ Good lord, no ! ’ 

‘ Fact, old man ! I ’ll tell you all about it at dinner.’ 

There were those among the men, too, who were 
delighted to meet the young oflacers — Keedsdale, Lord 
Rossville, and many a one who had been in a tough 
corner with them. Rock also came in for many a 
handshake and slap on the back ; but he was not at 
all himself, and took but little noticq of his welcome. 

The following day Cqlonel Lloyd informed Oliver 
arid Vivian that Sir Douglas Haig, then commander- 
in-chief in place of Viscount French, had sent word 
that he wanted to see them at headquarters. He 
welcomed them warmly when they arrived, and 
asked them a great many questions about Serbia 
and the Dardanelles, making them recount all their 
adventures. He- was particularly anxious to hear all 
about the Zeppelin raid at Salonika and the meeting 
with Lord Kitchener. 

After the tale had been told he said, ‘ Well, gentle- 
men, Lord Kitchener is a man who never forgets ; he 
has been informed by General Bird wood of the share 
you took in the Gallipoli evacuation, and of your 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 


379 


work at Salonika. He himself considers he is in- 
debted to you, and has written me on the subject. 
Of course, for the work you did in Serbia and 
Gallipoli no public recognition can be made; but 
Viscount French wrote to me on the subject, and 
he has made certain representations to his Majesty, 
which I am told have been graciously agreed to.’ 

Both officers looked astonished. 

‘I am sure. Sir Douglas, I have done nothing to 
warrant any special reward,’ said Oliver. 

‘ Neither have I,’ echoed Vivian. 

‘I did not make the recommendations,’ said Sir 
Douglas, *so don’t blame me. All I know is that 
Viscount French recommended Captain Hastings for 
the Victoria Cross, Captain Drummond for the D.S.O., 
and Private Kichard Rock for the D.C.M.’ 

The young officers were hardly able to speak, so 
astonished were they. 

* But for what ? ’ they exclaimed. * We have done 
no more than any other officer.’ 

‘Probably not,’ smiled Sir Douglas; ‘but you’ve 
happened to come under notice. — Here, Armitage, 
bring me the list of official recommendations, will 
you?’ 

A staff officer presently came in with a bulky file, 
which Sir Douglas turned over until he found an 
entry. ‘ Here you are,’ he said, and read out : 

‘ Royal Wessex Fusiliers. — Captain Oliver Hast- 
ings and Private Richard Rock, near Loos, on 14th 
October, for their gallantry in rescuing under a heavy 
fire Colonel Hastings, who had been dangerously 
wounded, and for removing him to a place of safety. 
On the next day, for defending a saphead with seven 
men until only Lieutenant (now Captain) Hastings 


380 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 


and Private Rock remained, after which the two kept 
the foe at bay for four hours, thus rendering material 
assistance to their comrades; and, later in the day, 
for bringing up a fresh supply of bombs, and for 
digging out Captain Drummond and seven men who 
had been buried by a shell explosion, all the while 
under heavy fire. Captain O. Hastings recom- 
mended for the Victoria Cross, and Private Rock for 
the Distinguished Conduct Medal. — Captain Vivian 
Drummond for gallantry and great resource shown 
on many occasions, and especially in leading a party 
of his own regiment in a counter-attack on a trench 
which had been captured by the Germans, and which, 
largely owing to Captain Drummond’s skilful hand- 
ling of his men, was won back. Recommended for 
the Distinguished Service Order.’ 

‘ It all reads very well, but so would the doings of 
a thousand other officers whose deeds the world will 
never know.’ 

‘ Make the most of your good fortune while it lasts,’ 
said Sir Douglas Haig. ‘Lord Kitchener thinks he 
sees in you the makings of good officers. Captain 
Drummond is to go back to the Secret Service, and 
will in a few days return to England ; Captain 
Hastings is to be retained on the staff, but to be 
employed regimentally until the appointment is pub- 
lished. You are both young men, and there is no 
reason why with luck you may not both wear the 
crossed batons on your shoulders before you die.’ 

He then shook hands with them very heartily, 
and Oliver and Vivian returned to their regiment. 
On their way they decided not to say anything of 
what they had heard until the news became public. 

A day or two later the Wessex Fusiliers moved up 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 


381 


to Neuville St Vaast, where they once more went into 
the trenches. It was a particularly ‘ unhealthy ’ spot, 
mines being exploded by one side or the other every 
day. 

Meanwhile the titanic struggle at Verdun was 
waxing fiercer and fiercer. The Germans had suffered 
huge losses, but ever fresh divisions were hurled 
forward, and the guns ground everything to powder. 
Blood and steel were to crush France ; the whole of 
the first French line and a large stretch of country, 
together with thousands of prisoners and scores of 
guns, had been captured ; but France held on 
doggedly ; the line bent, but did not break. 

The Wessex had six days in the trenches, and 
then retired for rest. During this time Oliver and 
Vivian got an opportunity of going to Verdun to 
see what was happening there. They made the 
long journey by night, and reached Haudromont 
Farm soon after dawn. Long before they arrived the 
thunder of the guns grew almost unbearable. With- 
out ceasing, shells of every calibre were bursting all 
around. Thousands of projectiles were whistling, 
howling, or moaning in every direction, the sounds 
combining into an absolutely infernal roar. Smoke 
and dust obscured the vision, making a kind of- fog ; 
shell fragments flew continually. Every house for 
miles round had been battered down ; giant trees 
were uprooted ; but out there in front, in the 
shattered woods and on, the blood-drenched slopes of 
hills, French and German were facing one another, 
and the fate of France was being decided. The very 
air trembled with the noise of the assault that was 
just developing, and, although two miles away, the 
roar of the artillery was deafening. The French and 


382 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 


German guns made an absolutely continuous crash, 
and the hang, hang, hang of the huge shells bursting 
sounded like constant blows on a giant anvil. 

The tide was on the turn. The futility of the 
hideous expenditure of human life was beginning to 
dawn even upon German intellects ; the heroism of 
France was day by day more apparent. General 
Petain had taken over the command, and the German 
advance was checked; in some instances the enemy 
had even been pushed back. 

Oliver and Vivian, old campaigners though they 
were, were awestruck. 

‘I should never have thought such a scene was 
possible,’ said Vivian ; * this beats all we ’ve seen yet, 
Noll.’ 

‘And I should think, when the world at large 
realises what modern warfare can develop into, war 
will be unthinkable in the future.’ 

Verdun itself was like a city of the dead. It was 
slowly and systematically being battered to bits. 
Here and there were quarters which had escaped 
the pitiless rain of shells, but not a single civilian 
remained in the town, and the military were out of 
sight under ground. 

On the roads behind Verdun thousands of motor 
lorries, all marshalled into transport battalions, 
hummed and buzzed by in a never-ending line at a 
regulation fifteen miles an hour. Thousands of tons 
of material, tens of thousands of men, were moving 
up to the all-devouring maw of Verdun. Going the 
other way were others, thousands of maimed and 
wounded Frenchmen, who had done their best for 
their beloved country, and here and there batches of 
ill-clad, half-crazy-looking, scowling German prisoners. 


BACK TO THE TRENCHES. 


383 


The French were cheerful, calmly confident, and fully 
determined. 

‘ Germany must score a success soon,’ said a young 

French lieutenant to Oliver and Vivian, ‘or’ and 

he shrugged his shoulders. 

‘ Or what ? ’ asked Vivian. 

‘ It will be our turn. France, Britain, and Russia 
will strike; we shall strike hard, and all at once, 
and then — ah, then — you will see. The crowds who 
bawled for war in the Unter den Linden in Berlin 
will be howling again; only they will be howling 
another tune;’ and the young Frenchman laughed 

gaily- 

‘ I hope they will, and I hope I shall be there to 
hear it,’ said Vivian. 

‘ To be sure, monsieur, we shall all be there ; and 
then, when it is over, Paris will be herself once 
more.’ 


CHAPTER XLV. 


‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE/ 

I T was the last night of the Wessex in the trenches, 
and the men were thinking about their relief. 
It had been a very trying time — heavy bombard- 
ments on both sides, small cutting-out expeditions, 
and, worst of all, frequent mine explosions. 

Vivian had received orders to proceed to London 
to take up an appointment, and the idea of being 
separated had much affected both him and Oliver, 
for they had not been parted since the war began. 

Oliver, alone in his dugout, missed the society of 
Cheery Dick, whom he had positively forbidden to 
come into the trenches. The old man, although he 
would not admit it, was very unwell, and both Oliver 
and Vivian had determined to get him to England. 
Till they went into the trenches without him, they 
never realised how really helpful the old soldier was, 
nor how many a weary hour he beguiled with his 
yarns. 

Oliver was feeling very ‘ down,’ when Skinner came 
up to his dugout. ‘Hastings,’ he said, ‘the Boche 
has been very troublesome lately. I’m thinking of 
organising a little “stunt” on my own. Will you 
stand in ? ’ 

‘ With pleasure ; anything for a change.’ 

‘ Well, it ’s a small cutting-out expedition. There ’s 
a sniper opposite us who has been perfectly objection- 
able lately, and I ’m going out to smash up his lair.’ 


‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE. 385 

‘Very well; make your arrangements, and I’ll fall 
in with them.’ 

‘ I only want you to stand to when I give you the 
tip that we ’re oif ; and, in case the Boche gets rusty, 
and chivvies us back to our trenches, to send in a 
few rounds to draw off his attention.’ 

‘Very well.’ 

A little later, while Oliver was making a round of 
his men, he heard a cough behind him, and, turning, 
saw Cheery Dick. ‘ Hallo, Rock ! what are you 
doing here ? ’ he said. ‘ I thought I ’d forbidden you 
to come into the trenches.’ 

‘I’m sent,’ said Rock doggedly. ‘I suppose you 
ain’t goin’ to “strafe” me for obeyin’ orders.’ 

‘ Who sent you ? ’ 

‘ Captain Drummond.’ 

‘ What for ? ’ 

‘ ’E sent me with a message.* 

‘ Well, let me have it, and be off again.’ 

‘ All right, sir ; all right. I ain’t goin’ to do 
anything desperate. Captain Drummond says ’e ’s 
got orders to start for England in the mornin’, an’ 
’e ’s coming out to say good-bye to you to-night.’ 

‘At A.M. or P.M., Rock ?’ 

‘At A.M.,’ replied Rock with a grin at the latest 
joke ; A.M. meaning before the mine went up, P.M. after. 

‘ Very well, Rock ; tell him I ’ll be in the dugout.’ 

‘Oh, an’ there’s another thing, sir. ’E says ’e 
will take me with him, sir; an’ what do you say 
to it ? ’ 

‘ I say, “ By all means.” ’ 

‘ An’ I always said as I wouldn’t go. I meant to 
see this war out with the two of you. An’ now ’e ’s 
goin’ an’ you ’re stoppin’, an’ I can’t be in two places. 

O.H. Y 


386 ‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE/ 

So I Ve decided to stop with you, an’ I want you to 
back me up.’ 

‘You’d be much better at home, Rock; a month 
or two will put you all right; then you can come 
back.’ 

‘No, sir, I won’t go; an’ please tell Captain 
Drummond so.’ 

‘Very well; I’ll talk to him. Now you toddle off 
back,’ and Oliver saw the old man into the com- 
munication trench, determined to tell Vivian to take 
him. 

The Germans became quiet as it grew dark, and 
Skinner came along to say that at eleven o’clock he 
and a small party were going to raid the trenches in 
front of them. 

Punctually at eleven, Oliver had his men all on the 
alert, waiting for the slightest sound to tell them that 
Skinner was busy with the enemy. It was a dark 
night, and all was particularly silent on their front, 
the listening men hearing nothing but an occasional 
distant shot. 

Half-an-hour passed, when a number of loud 
reports, which Oliver knew were made by bombs, 
rang out; then yells and shouts and the occasional 
hanQy hang of rifles were heard, and by the sounds it 
was clear that the British had penetrated the German 
trench. The noise lasted some time; and, as the 
essence of all such mids is the speed with which they 
are carried out, Oliver began to get nervous. 

Presently the rattle of a machine-gun was heard, 
and Oliver grew more anxious still. Suddenly the 
noise of the gun ceased, and the sounds of flghting 
got nearer. A couple of Verrey lights went up, and 
in the no man’s land a mass of men fighting fiercely 


*THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE/ 387 

was seen. The few British seemed almost sur- 
rounded by Germans, and Oliver saw they were 
in difficulties. 

‘ Come on, men ! ’ he cried ; ‘ we must go to their 
assistance.' 

In a trice he was over the parapet with a score of 
men at his heels. Pushing under their own barbed 
wire, with bayonets at the charge they dashed to the 
rescue. The Verrey lights made all as bright as day. 
Skinner was seen fighting like a Trojan, and with 
him were half-a-dozen men, while the others were 
carrying a machine-gun, and forcing along eight or 
nine prisoners. It was to prevent the men and gun 
falling into British hands that the Germans had left 
their trench. 

Before Oliver could reach Skinner, a ragged, wild- 
looking figure sprang from somewhere, apparently a 
hole near the German trenches, and with a ferocity 
indescribable fell upon the Germans in rear, and in 
half-a-dozen seconds had bayoneted as many of the 
enemy. Then a German shot him through the head 
just as Oliver got up. 

His men got to work with the bayonet, and sharp 
work it was. Oliver received a gash on the left arm 
almost at the beginning, but with his revolver he shot 
the man who had wounded him. Two more shared 
the same fate, and then the Germans broke and 
ran. 

‘Back to your trench, boys,’ cried Oliver, for he 
was anxious not to lose men, as if such encounters 
cost the British more than they did the enemy the 
officers in charge were likely to get a severe rap over 
the knuckles. ‘Bring every man of ours in, wounded 
or dead.’ 


O.H 


y 


'^88 


‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE.' 


He himself was assisting when a man cried out, 

‘ What is this chap, sir — a German or an Englishman ? ' 

Oliver saw the soldier was stooping over the body 
of the fantastic figure who* had done such execution 
on the Huns. 

‘He fought well for us,’ said Oliver; ‘bring him 
in,’ and Lord Roseville and another man lifted 
him up. 

The party got back to their own trench with little 
more loss, and then Skinner came up to Oliver. 
‘Thanks for your timely help, old man,’ he said; ‘we 
shouldn’t have got back otherwise. We dropped into 
their trenches, and took them quite by surprise. We 
“strafed” ’em right and left; but some great brute 
hopped out of a dugout and caught me in his arms. 
His hug was like a bear’s, and I couldn’t get away 
from him, and all the while he was yelling like blue 
murder. My sergeant providentially came up and 
bayoneted the beast. Ugh ! his blood is all over me. 
We then bombed the dugouts, and had collared 
several men, three of them oflficers, when they 
whipped round a machine-gun and let rip at us. 
But our blood was up, and we took the gun and 
got off with our prisoners and the gun. The noise, 
though, had brought out fellows from the support 
trench, and they came after us. You arrived just 
in time.’ 

‘Glad to have been of service, Skinner; and now 
let us have a look at the prisoners.* 

These were found to be a major and two lieuten- 
ants, with five men, and they were promptly sent off 
to the rear with the captured gun. 

Then the British wounded were seen to, amongst 
them the curious figure who had come to their 


‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE/ 


389 


assistance. Oliver found Lord Rossville bending 
over him, holding a flask to his lips. The officers 
saw that the man was wearing rags that had once 
been khaki, but he had long hair and a beard. 

‘ Rum-looking fellow,’ said Skinner. 

‘Yes, and the funny thing is, sir,* said Lord 
Rossville, ‘he has our badge on his collar.’ 

The three bent over him just as he opened his eyes. 
His face was almost like that of a skeleton, and was 
ghastly pale. It was clear he was dying, but he 
looked at the officers, and the faintest suspicion of a 
smile flickered for a moment on his lips. ‘My 
regiment ! ’ he muttered. 

‘ Good God, what can he mean ? ’ cried Oliver. 
‘Give him a drop more brandy, Bulmer’ — Lord 
Rossville insisted on serving as Bulmer. 

Bulmer did so, when the man struggled up on one 
elbow. ‘I’m Wilson,’ he gasped. ‘Tommy Wilson. 
The Huns — murdered my wife — and my baby — 
Zeppelins,’ and he paused. Then he seemed to revive. 
‘I’ve dogged ’em though,’ he cried in fierce, strong 
tones. ‘For months I’ve hid and sniped ’em. Hid 

all day. I ’ve killed at least fifty. I ’ve avenged 

Oh God, I’m going. Good-bye; good’ His 

head fell back, and .“he was gone; and with him the 
terrible history of those months that no man on earth 
would ever hear. 

Another light was procured, and then it was seen 
that the poor fellow was indeed the Wilson who had 
disappeared after his wife and child had been 
murdered at home by Zeppelin bombs. 

‘ Good heavens ! what a tale he could have unfolded 
if he had lived ! But, poor fellow, he ’s better dead. 
I believe his mind was unhinged,’ said Oliver. 


390 ‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE/ 

They wrapped him reverently in a blanket, de- 
termined to give him a military funeral next 
day. 

It rather puzzled Oliver, when he was back again 
in his dugout, that the Germans had not treated them 
to a deluge of shells ; for, as a rule, when they were 
worsted in such encounters they revenged themselves 
by sending over a few hundred high- explosives. He 
was wondering why they were so quiet, and then fell 
to thinking of Vivian and their impending separation, 
when — hang — flash — gr-r-r — the ground rocked, rose, 
a fiery breath of hell seized him, and hurled him 
aloft, then — chaos and utter darkness. 

Private Rock had finished sorting out Vivian’s 
kit and getting it ready for him on the morrow. 
Not that it took him long; a valise and a small 
bag held the lot. Supper was disposed of, and 
Cheery cleared away. ‘No good’ll come of this 
’ere breakin’ up of old associations like,’ he said. 
‘ We came out ’ere together, an’ we oughter all stay 
or all go.’ 

‘ Just what I think. Rock.’ 

‘ You ain’t obliged to go, are you, Mr Vivian ? ’ He 
had got latterly into the habit of calling his masters 
Mr Oliver and Mr Vivian. 

‘Absolute orders.’ 

‘ Well, you ’re a-goin’ to say good-bye to Mr Oliver 
afore you goes, you said.’ 

‘Yes, and it’s a hard thing to do. I shall be gone 
before he gets back to-morrow.’ 

‘ We ’d better be goin’.’ 

‘ There ’s no need for you to come.’ 

‘ Ain’t there ? Mr Oliver said he pertikler wanted 
to see me again.’ 


‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE.* 


391 


‘ What on earth for ? ’ 

‘ I think he s got a little gift for me/ said the old 
man unblushingly. 

Vivian looked keenly at Cheery, but he returned 
his officer’s gaze unflinchingly. 

Presently they started, and a long march it was. 
As they got near the front-line trenches they heard 
the sound of firing. 

‘Things are lively/ said Vivian. 

There was some delay in getting forward, and 
presently a few German prisoners were seen being 
conducted to the rear, when they learned that the 
Wessex had made a ‘stunt/ and had ‘strafed’ the 
Boches. 

‘Some casualties, I think/ said a young artillery 
officer carelessly ; ‘ but I ’ve heard no particulars.’ 

‘ Hurry up. Rock,’ said Vivian, ‘ I feel strangely 
uneasy to-night.’ 

‘ So do I, some’ow.’ 

They were passing on in the darkness when 
suddenly there was a blinding flash. The very earth 
shook; there was a sullen booming roar; then all 
was dark again. 

‘ A mine ! ’ cried Vivian ; ‘ and near our front ! 
Was it on the German lines or ours ? ’ 

They hurried forward, and soon discovered that a 
very inferno of artillery fire had suddenly burst out. 
‘The Boches have blown in a portion of our front- 
line trenches, and are attacking to occupy the crater/ 
was the cry. 

Men were running forward to repel the attack, and 
with them Vivian and Rock. Verrey lights made 
everything clearly visible, and soon a great gaping 
hole, bordered by heaps of earth, as though thrown 


392 ‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE.’ 

up by an earthquake, was reached. Swarms of 
Germans had rushed up to occupy the crater; but 
the British were disputing every foot, and a furious 
fight was being waged. Vivian and Kock were soon 
in the thick of it. Bayonets, rifle butts, revolvers, 
picks, spades, and fists were being used, and it was 
an absolute riot of slaughter. The British, however, 
hating mine warfare with a deadly hatred, fought 
like furies ; and reinforcements coming up, the Boche, 
badly beaten, was hurled back. Then the machine- 
guns and artillery caught him ; and, battered and 
smashed, he cowered in his trenches, where he was 
pinned by the artillery fire, having paid dearly for 
his venture. 

The work of rescue commenced. Willing hands 
dug and scratched and toiled, and several men were 
extricated from the debris, including Skinner, sensible 
but badly hurt ; Lord Rossville, regimentally known 
as Private Bulmer, crushed to death ; and beside him 
a poor nondescript figure whom none recognised at 
the time, but who was afterwards known to be the 
unfortunate Wilson. Later on the two were laid side 
by side in a common grave. 

‘ Poor Bulmer ! I expect he ’s the first of his line to 
die as a private soldier,’ said Vivian, ‘ but he ’s done 
his duty nobly.’ 

In an agony of apprehension they searched on and 
on for Oliver, and presently it was Rock who found 
him, lying horribly crumpled up, but uncovered with 
earth. The spot where he had been had caught the 
fag-end of the explosion, and he had been hurled into 
the air and had fallen behind the trench. 

Tenderly Vivian and Rock lifted Oliver, and never 
left him till he was in the doctor’s hands. He was 


‘THE ENEMY SPRANG A MINE.* 393 

alive, but unconscious, and the doctor spent some time 
over him. 

‘ Is it a case ? ’ asked Vivian, setting his jaws hard 
to conquer his emotion. 

‘ Shock and concussion,’ replied the doctor curtly. 

‘ Any chance for him ? ’ 

‘ God knows. Sometimes death is a mercy to such ; ’ 
and Vivian, knowing how often total deafness and 
dumbness, paralysis, or loss of reason was the result 
of such cases, turned away his head to hide his 
emotion, while two glistening tears stole down Rock’s 
leathern cheeks. From Skinner, who had had his left 
hand blown off, and was in agonies of pain, though 
he bit his lips till they bled rather than make a 
moan, they learnt something of what had happened. 

At midday Vivian had to go. 

‘ Dick,’ he said pressing the old man’s hand, ‘ you ’ll 
stay by our friend.’ 

‘ Till — till the end,’ muttered the old soldier. For 
several minutes Vivian stood looking at the pale, 
deathlike figure of his bosom friend, who had never 
moved or made a sound since he had been picked 
up. Then he grasped Rock’s horny hand. ‘Wire 
me the instant there is — any news,’ he said; then, 
with a sob he did his best to suppress, at the call of 
duty he walked slowly away. 

‘ The enemy sprang a mine, but failed to hold the 
crater,’ was the laconic official summary of that 
night’s work. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS. 

F rom the grim desolation of the battlefield, from 
the agony of crushed and maimed humanity, 
from the horror of the Valley of Death, pass we to 
more pleasant scenes. 

Six weeks have elapsed, and it is a glorious summer 
day. Down the Mall roll many carriages between 
rows of enthusiastic people, the better-born raising 
their hats and smiling a welcome, the heartier lower 
class cheering lustily. The King is holding an 
investiture, and servants — civil, naval, and military, 
who have served him faithfully in all parts of the 
world — have been summoned to receive at the hands 
of the King the reward of their services. Statesmen, 
Generals, Admirals, subalterns, and privates, from all 
parts are arriving. But we are concerned only with 
two carriages which contain five soldiers. They include 
Colonel Hastings, now quite recovered, but looking 
pale and thin, and his son Oliver, hobbling on crutches, 
one leg supported in a sling. He had lain very close 
to death’s-door, but splendid medical treatment and a 
good constitution had saved him. Though sustain- 
ing a fractured leg and numberless contusions and 
bruises, and having been for three days speechless 
and senseless, he was now slowly pulling round, and 
hoping to be in at the finish of the war. Vivian, 
looking well and fit, and very smart in his scarlet- 
banded staff cap ; Captain Skinner, his artificial left 


A BEEAK IN THE CLOUDS. 


395 


hand concealed in a glove; and Private Rock, in a 
brand new uniform for the occasion, completed the 
party. 

They alight from the carriages, and find themselves 
in the great reception-room with a crowd of officers. 
The King seems to know every one and everything, 
and makes pleasant remarks as he hands the decora- 
tions to the recipients. 

' I am delighted to see you well again. Colonel,’ he 
says to Colonel Hastings as he hangs the gold Maltese- 
Cross of the Order of the Bath round his neck ; ' and 
I hope you will live long to wear this decoration. 
And this is your gallant son ; ’ and he shook hands 
with Oliver. ‘I have heard from Viscount French 
about him, and I have never conferred the Victoria 
Cross on a more worthy officer. It gives me the 
greatest satisfaction to decorate both father and son 
on the same day. 

‘ Captain Drummond, it gives me great pleasure to 
bestow the D.S.O. upon you for your many services ; 
and the Military Cross upon you. Captain Skinner, 
for your very plucky leading of an attack upon the 
enemy trenches, and the capture of officers and a 
machine-gun. I commiserate with you on the loss of 
your hand.’ 

He shook hands with each one, and presently he 
came to Rock, who stood rigidly at attention. 

The King looked at the double row of medal- 
ribbons. ‘A fine old soldier, I see,’ he said, ‘and I 
am delighted to hand you one more decoration. But 
you look a little pale. Have you been ill ? ’ 

‘ Yes, your Majesty.’ 

‘ I am glad to see you better.’ 

‘ An’ I ’m glad to see you better, sir.’ 


396 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS. 


* I Ve not been ill/ said the King with a smile. 

‘ Last time I saw you, you looked bad enough, your 
Majesty ; time you was thrown an’ kicked by a ’orse.’ 

‘ Oh, you saw my unfortunate accident in France/ 
laughed the King. * I am ashamed of my bad horse- 
manship.’ 

‘ It wasn’t you, it was the ’orse, sir. ’Orrible things ! 
My illness was caused the same way. Never ’ave 
nothin’ to do with ’orses, sir.’ 

The King laughed heartily as he pinned the medal 
on Rock’s tunic. ‘You’ll have to move your ribbons 
along/ he said. 

‘ Yes, sir ; more expense ! No matter what ’appens 
to Tommy, ’e ’s always got to dip ’is ’and in ’is pocket 
for it.’ 

The King looked at the old soldier quizzically, and 
was clearly much amused, for he smiled again; and 
the Queen, who was present, came up to find out 
what amused the King so much. 

‘This gallant soldier has been telling me to have 
nothing to do with horses,’ said the King to her. 

‘ Indeed ! And don’t you like them ? ’ asked the 
Queen. 

‘ ’Ate ’em, your Majesty. ’Ere ’ave I been through 
four campaigns, not counting the last one, which ain’t 
a campaign at all, only murder. Never had a scratch, 
your Majesty, till I was — er — silly enough to get on 
a ’orse, an’ that was the beginnin’ of my troubla’ 

‘ Indeed ! how was that ? ’ 

Oliver, Vivian, and the rest were on tenterhooks as 
to what Rock, who seemed perfectly at home, would 
say, and gave him ominous nods and winks. But he 
took no notice, and began to talk to the Queen, who 
now and then laughed heartily. 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS. 


397 


The officers caught a word here and there, as, ‘ We 
was never intended to ride,’ ‘ Vicious brutes, artful as 
monkeys,’ and so on, and were intensely relieved 
when her Majesty, with a friendly nod, left Private 
Rock. 

The whole party were in the vestibule waiting for 
their carriages when a gentleman of the household 
came up and handed Rock an envelope. * His Majesty 
sent you this to defray the expense of altering the 
position of your medal-ribbons.’ 

In an instant the envelope was opened, and Rock 
held a ten-pound note in his hand. ‘ My best thanks 
to ’is Majesty,’ he said; ‘an’ tell ’im not to forget 
what I told ’im about ’orses.’ 

The gentleman gravely said he would do so, and in 
another moment they were in the carriages. 

‘Rock, I trust you were not over-familiar with 
their Majesties,’ said Vivian. ‘What on earth did 
you revert to the King’s accident for ? * 

‘To warn ’im,’ said Rock solemnly; ‘an’ ."'as to 
being familiar, my old captain in the Fightin’ Fifth 
says, “ Rock, if you ever ’ave the honour of addressin’ 
the Queen ” — that was the old Queen Victoria then — 
“speak to ’er without any fuss; they like it.” An’ 
what ’eld good for ’er ’olds good for the present one, 
I take it.’ 

Mr James Skinner, Captain Skinner’s father, had 
begged the whole party to honour him with their 
presence at lunch when the investiture was over; 
and Oliver, anxious to please Skinner, had persuaded 
the others to accept. 

They drove to the ‘ Berkeley,* where lunch fit for 
an emperor had been prepared. 

Mr Skinner, a short, stout man in a white waist- 


398 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS. 


coat, was there to receive them, assisted by Mrs 
Skinner in black satin. Mrs Hastings and Marjorie 
were also guests, and the lunch was a huge success. 

A pleasant little surprise for Rock was Oliver’s 
handing to him a cheque for two hundred and fifty 
pounds, subscribed by himself, Vivian, and Major 
Dwyer, for the service he had rendered them in 
saving them from the poisoned coffee in Paris. 

Then Mr Skinner rose to make a speech. ‘ Colonel 
’Astings, ladies, and gentlemen,’ he said, * this is the 
proudest moment of my life. I am a plain, common 
man. I’ve made my money out of sausages; but 
every penny I ’ve made is at the service of dear Old 
England if she wants it. And I ’ve tried to make my 
boy a gentleman. I didn’t want ’im to go in the 
army, but ’e went and ’as distinguished ’imself, and 
you’ve honoured me with your presence. It’s an 
honour, and I feel it, and I drink to your ’ealth, one 
and all.’ 

‘ ’Ear ! ’ear ! ’ cried Rock, banging on the table. 

Poor Skinner looked uneasy, and he whispered to 
Oliver, ‘ The dear old dad means well ; and I never 
disguised the fact that he was a sausage merchant.* 

‘ My dear chap, when a man has got a heart of gold 
nothing else matters.’ 

And presently, while Vivian and Marjorie seemed 
to have a lot to say to one another in a window 
recess. Colonel Hastings said to Mr Skinner, ‘At 
any time that you can spare a week-end I shall 
be happy to welcome you and Mrs Skinner to The 
Hollies.’ 

Mr Skinner regularly beamed. ‘ Do you mean it. 
Colonel ? ’ he asked. 

‘ Assuredly.’ 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS. 


399 


‘Thanks a 'undred times! You’ve offered me 
what I value more than anything else, and what all 
my money could never buy. I shall be proud to 
accept your invitation.’ 

‘ And you will be of the party, of course, Skinner,’ 
said the Colonel to the son. ‘I am afraid your 
soldiering days, like mine, are over, so we must 
fight our old battles over again.’ 

‘ I shall be honoured. Colonel. I ’m glad I ’ve had 
the opportunity of doing a bit for my country ; but 
I sha’n’t be sorry to doff khaki and go into the 
sausage business, if the dad will have me, with one 
hand.’ 

‘’And, my boy? You don’t want to work with 
your ’ands. You can get a ’undred pairs of ’ands at 
thirty bob a week. What’s wanted is brains, and 
thank goodness the Germans left you those.’ 

Captain Skinner laughed. 

Oliver, as he shook hands with him, added his 
invitation to his father’s. ‘We’re a poor lot of 
cripples,’ he said, ‘ and must console one another. Of 
the five of us who joined up a year ago, Harris is the 
only one now left serving at the front.’ 

‘ Don’t you get croaking, Oliver,’ said Vivian, 
turning round. ‘ Only poor Crawford is really 
gone, and the rest of us will be with the boys 
when they march into Berlin. Skinner will never 
be able to keep away for long, and I’ll whisper 
to' some bigwig to get him a nice job where only 
one hand is required.’ 

‘ And, Rock, when you get your discharge I ’ve got 
a comfortable little job for you at The Hollies,’ said 
the Colonel. 

‘ Thanks, Colonel ; but do you keep ’orses ? ’ 


400 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS. 


/ 


* Of course I do. Why, do you want a job as 
coachman ? * 

Kock shivered. * Lord forbid, Colonel ! I was 
goin’ to say, give me a little shanty out of sight and 
'earin’ of the beasts.’ 

* Certainly,’ laughed the Colonel ; * the job I ’ve got 
in view for you is my private factotum.’ 

‘ Fac who. Colonel ? ’ asked Rock suspiciously. 

‘ My orderly, I mean.’ 

The word brought Rock up to attention in the old 
style. 

‘Parade — shun!’ he cried. ‘I’ll tell off the ser- 
vants, Colonel ; an’ if any one of ’em gets chewin’ 
the rag or visitin’ the canteen out of hours I ’ll ’ave 
’em in the clink an’ march ’em up to the orderly- 
room in the mornin’. An’ if we don’t put a stop to 
any monkey tricks, then I ain’t learnt nothin’ in the 
service.’ 


NOTES. 


Note A — ‘In Khaki for the King.' 

The earlier adventures of Oliver Hastings and Vivian Drummond 
are related in the above-named story. 

At the outbreak of the war, Oliver Hastings, a subaltern of 
Yeomanry, is spending a holiday in Frankfort. He has a 
dispute with a Prussian officer ; a brawl ensues ; he is denounced 
as a spy, and narrowly escapes capture. He meets an old school- 
fellow, Vivian Drummond, a lieutenant in the Guards, in 
Germany on secret service. Together, after many adventures, 
they manage to escape down the Khine, cross the frontier, and 
reach Liege. They take part in Belgium’s gallant attempt to 
hold up the Germanic hordes, and when the army retreats 
to Antwerp, with some other British officers they set off to meet 
the British Expeditionary Force. 

They join up in time to take part in the battle of Mons and 
the gallant retreat therefrom. They share in the victory of the 
Marne, in trench work on the Aisne, and in fhe glorious fight of 
Neuve Chapelle. There, however, misfortune meets them, and 
both are wounded. Their services are rewarded with the Military 
Cross, and we leave them convalescent, and eager to begin those 
further adventures related in this volume. 

Note B — Private Lynn’s Exploit. 

The deeds of Private John Lynn, 2nd battalion Lancashire 
Fusiliers, deserve to be known to every Briton. He was one of 
the very few awarded both the Distinguished Conduct Medal 
and the Victoria Cross. The latter decoration, notwithstanding 
the many gallant deeds performed alike by officers and men 
in the present war, has been very sparingly awarded, and to 
earn it courage of a very high order has to be displayed. 

Private Lynn won his D.C.M. on the Aisne. While in action 
his machine-gun jammed at a most critical moment Without 


402 


NOTES. 


a second’s hesitation, under a positively appalling fire, he 
dismantled his gun, carried it to the rear, calmly repaired it, 
and then carried it back in time practically to annihilate the 
German column attacking. 

At the second battle of Ypres, when the Germans were 
advancing behind dense clouds of asphyxiating gas, Lynn, 
although almost overcome by the deadly fumes, stuck to his 
machine-gun. His comrades, to whom gas was a new terror, 
were dying on all sides. The respirators which had been served 
out were quite inadequate, and the men, choked and blinded, 
fell writhing to the bottom of the trench. An order was given 
to retire to the reserve trenches, but Lynn was not one of those 
who retire in the face of danger. He realised that behind the 
gas were hordes of Germans, and he calmly determined that 
the trench should not be lost. Though his eyes and lungs were 
full of the poisonous fumes, and blood was streaming from his 
mouth, he mounted his gun on the parapet and waited, alone in 
his grandeur. The Germans advanced, expecting to find a trench 
full of corpses ; they found the might and majesty of Britain 
awaiting them in the shape of one private soldier. He turned 
his gun on them, and the Germans fell in heaps before him until, 
demoralised, they retired. Not one German set foot in the 
trench, and reinforcements of the Lancashire Fusiliers, coming 
up to recapture the trench they thought was lost, found Lynn, 
then in the last stage of exhaustion, still working his gun. 
Tenderly they carried the hero away to a dugout, and there he 
lay until a second attack was made upon the trench. Then 
Lynn, dying though he was, made an effort to stagger back to 
his gun; but the deadly gas had done its work, and he fell 
senseless, to die an agonising death some hours later. 

John Lynn’s body lies in France, but his memory will live 
for ever in the memorials of the British army 1 

Note C — The Heroine op Loos. 

The young girl, then only seventeen, mentioned in the story 
is Mademoiselle Emilienne Moreau, who had remained in Loos 
during the whole German occupation. While the British were 
completing the capture of the town she tended wounded 
Highlanders and Territorials. The Germans having basely 
attacked her patients while they lay helpless, Mademoiselle 


NOTES. 


403 


Morean, with a heroism worthy of a veteran soldier, killed three 
of them with hand grenades, and shot two more with a British 
officer’s revolver. 

For her intrepid behaviour she was decorated at Versailles 
with the Croix de Guerre on 28th November 1915. 

On 28th July 1916, at the British Embassy in Paris, Lord 
Bertie conferred the British Military Medal and the Order of St 
John of Jerusalem on this young French girl. 

Mademoiselle Moreau is as modest as she is courageous ; and 
when the medals were pinned on her breast she said, ‘ I am so 
touched that I cannot find words to express my gratitude.’ 

To praise this young heroine would be impertinence ; she 
stands on a pinnacle of her own. One can only quote the 
words of General de Sailly, when he presented the Cross : ‘ I 
congratulate and admire you, young lady. You do honour to 
the women of France. You are a fine and inspiring example.’ 

Note D — Operations Round Loos. 

The battle of Loos has been described both as a success and as 
a splendid failure. The whole operations lasted from 25th 
September till 15th October, and the British casualties were 
about fifty thousand men. The troops engaged were largely of 
the so-called ‘New Army’ and Territorials, and they displayed 
a splendid courage worthy of the heroes of Mons, Le Cateaii, the 
Marne, and Ypres. Wherever they met the enemy in the open 
they signally defeated him, and the battle showed most con- 
clusively that the short service British soldier, enlisted for the 
war, was fully the equal of the harder-trained German conscript. 
As a result of the battle proper, which lasted three days, the 
Double Grassier slag-heaps, the town of Loos, the western slojDes 
of Hill 70, the chalk-pit, part of the Hohenzollern Redoubt, and 
the Hulluch quarries were captured. 

Insomuch as it roughly dispelled the German idea that their 
position was impregnable, the battle may be looked upon as a 
victory. So far as smashing through the German lines is 
concerned it was not a success. But it is very doubtful whether 
the high British command ever thought of doing so. The 
crushing victory, the swallowing of the enemy in one big fight, 
as was done in old-time fighting, is, under existing conditions 
— with the enormous numbers of men and guns engaged, the 


404 


NOTES. 


terrific frontage, and the marvellous efficiency of the present-day 
rifle — quite impossible. The enemy must be worn down ; he 
must be reduced in numbers until he is too weak to hold his 
line, and has to fall back. The war will be won by killing 
Germans ; and as a killing undertaking Loos was successful, for 
the German losses were much heavier than ours. 

The French offensive, coincident with the British, gave them 
Souchez and the lower slopes of the Vimy heights. 


THE END. 


Edinburgh ; 

Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited. 


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